Old Friend
by ThisVioletofMine
Summary: AU. Meet David: a totally average, antisocial pet-store owner whose life has gone to crap. Now add a long-lost friend who happens to be one of the turtles David sold. Oh brother.
1. Chapter 1

By violetsunsets8410

**Chapter One: Then**

**Breckham's Pet Shop*16 Years Ago*New York City**

Donovan Breckham watched with pride as his son cared for the newest turtle hatchling. Eight-year-old David Breckham carefully held the runt in his palm, gently stroking its head while introducing it to its new tank mates.

The oldest of the four red-eared sliders scrabbled to his side as soon as David released the little terrapin, who curled into his new brother's side and sighed contentedly, his baby blue eyes slowly sliding shut. He was startled out of his peace by his second oldest brother, the biggest of the three, who was playfully trying to wrestle him onto his shell. Little Davey watched the scene with growing fascination, studying their distinct personalities. And, being the creative child that he was, he gave each one a name that seemed appropriate.

The oldest one, with leaf green skin, a dark brown hexagonally-patterned shell and ocean blue eyes, was the obvious leader. Rarely seen separately from his siblings, he was always wary of anyone who may try to touch them. He was always monitoring the other two, guiding them and helping them accomplish things -like catching their minnows- that the still immature babies couldn't do on their own. He was very calm, patient, compassionate, and responsible. So of course Davey named him Captain.

The second oldest turtle, with dark green skin, acid green eyes, and thick muscles covering every inch of his body, was definitely tough guy of the group. He was always picking on the runt, taking his food sometimes and pecking at him, and was rarely seen NOT fighting with Captain. He did have a soft spot for his brothers, though, and occasionally when David and his older sister Becca snuck by after closing time, they would see him returning the stolen food to his baby brother or snuggling his older sibling. He bit anyone who tried to touch his brothers, and when they slept, he would pile on top of the youngest protectively. His new name was Dragon, like the fairy tale monsters guarding what he loved.

And how could anyone forget the youngest? With his sea-green scaly skin and the giant baby blue eyes, he could melt the coldest of hearts. Full of life and energy, he was their little sunshine; they relied on him to keep them happy. As happy as he made them, he still had a nasty habit of taunting Dragon, often earning him a good nipping for his trouble. But no matter how angry you were, you just could not stay mad at that adorable little face! Rebecca had helped David come up with the name Apollo.

As much as Davy loved the turtles- they were his favorite animals after all!- he couldn't form much of a bond with them. Dragon still bit him, Apollo fled from his touch, and Captain would warily keep his eyes intently on him whenever he was nearby. No, best to leave them be. Therefore, it was the fourth turtle that he bonded with.

This one shared the same mother as the others- Terra, Donovan's best breeder- his father was a mystery species and this baby turtle was actually born by accident. He was a genetic mutant, a speckled red-eared slider. A few weeks old, he was technically the third oldest of his brothers, but so far was kept separated from them. He was a very beautiful specimen of his rare breed, his telltale red eyes signifying male gender.

His smooth skin was an olive green shade, his plastron a few shades lighter than the others. The biggest physical differences included his sharper beak, longer legs, razor-sharp retractable claws (a feature that was common to the breed, but the terrapin had yet to develop), burning scarlet eyes with brown rings, his octagonally-patterned shell, and the trademark splotch of red forming a mask around his eyes, a few shades darker than the eyes themselves. He was also probably the most intelligent turtle anyone had ever seen.

Davey had no difficulty gaining this one's trust, as he seemed to understand the comforting words the young boy was mumbling. He often met the boy with a good morning cuddle, rubbing- gently, of course- his pointed beak against the child's soft cheek. He would spend several lucky afternoons in the boy's lap, playing with a tomato or listening to him babble, and sometimes, when the day was going slowly by and the cats secured in their cages, you would find the young terrapin perched on Davey's shoulder while they were sitting at the front desk. From there, the turtle felt as though everything was harmonizing, and he could finally empty his head for a few moments from the endless thoughts and ideas running through that brilliant mind of his, and enjoy a few moments of peace while relishing his master's presence.

Davey often focused his attention solely on this turtle, leaving Becca to care for the brothers. The more he cared for this miraculous turtle, the more he got to know the little guy's amazing personality. He was an intelligent, creative, loving, pacifistic friend for anyone who treated him kindly. Treat him -or anyone he cares about- badly, and you might just lose a finger. If you're lucky. He reminded Davey of his beloved mother, who passed away not two years ago. And so, David specially named the turtle Echo, after her (may she rest in peace).

Davey may have seemed over-attached to these creatures, but ever since his mother died, he had become awkward and antisocial, and he didn't have any friends. He saw something wonderful in these turtles that nobody else did, and that made him special.

One day, about six months after Apollo's arrival, Davey was busying himself with scrubbing at Echo's dark brown carapiece. He re-dipped the old toothbrush in the specialized keratin-strengthening formula and gently brushed between each octagon. Echo, as usual, was rubbing his head against his master's arm, loving the extra attention and soaking it up like a sponge.

Just then, Rebecca walked over to him, startling him out of his mechanical motions and turning him by the shoulders to face her. As she brushed her black locks from her face, Davey put the old toothbrush away and Echo, realizing his beauty treatment was over for the day, opened his red eyelids to reveal even redder eyes, dilated against the bright pet store lights.

"David? We're going to move 10096 to the tank up front, with his brothers. Daddy thinks it'll benefit the turtles, as well as sales." She said, referring to the slider currently staring at her from her brother's lap suspiciously. Davey sighed in exasperation and she chuckled, ruffling his unruly brown curls. He followed the teenager to the front of the shop, up to the display window where Echo's brothers currently sat waiting in their tank.

He carefully and skillfully plopped Echo down on the sandy bottom, patting his head a few times before saying, "Alright buddy, lemme know if they give you a hard time, okay?"

Echo responded with an affirmative two blinks before making his way over to the other three as Davey stooped down and watched the scene unfold.

Captain and Dragon were at it again. Captain, while squawking madly at Dragon, was definitely the calmer of the two. Dragon was trying to ram the agile Captain, even daring to nip at his nose a few times. For a while, Captain patiently kept it together like the true half-shelled leader he was. And then Dragon poked his ocean blue eye with the blunt tip of his beak. Captain quickly retaliated ten-fold, throwing Dragon off him and moving at him at quite amazing speeds for a baby turtle. They nipped at each other back and forth, not at all noticing that a certain red-masked mutant had slipped past them and into the shallow pool, and swam over to a trembling Apollo who was cowering from the fighting in the small corner. It was when Echo had led his baby brother back to shore that the others finally took a notice to his foreign- yet strangely familiar- presence. David gasped when Dragon rammed full force into Echo, throwing him back into the water whilst shepherding a hesitant Apollo away. But, being the patient pacifist Davey knew him to be, Echo simply climbed back onto the sand and lay down with a huff, staring intently at his brothers.

After a long time of silence from the three in the corner, Dragon finally went stir crazy and started picking on the youngest again. As he nipped at the runt's toes, he failed to notice that Echo had been drawn closer by his baby brother's cries. The next thing anyone knew, Dragon was on his shell and a furiously hissing Echo was leading Apollo to the opposite corner, where he dug a small ditch in the sand and packed his brother comfortably in it before protectively piling on top of him in a very Dragon-like fashion.

It was in that span of half an hour that this new turtle made his rules crystal clear: I am very tolerant. You can pick on me all you want, but never, NEVER make me angry. And if you want to continue living, LEAVE LITTLE BROTHER ALONE.

After that incident, Dragon and Captain made a double effort to avoid fighting or upsetting their new brother. They adjusted to their new life quite quickly, immediately accepting and adopting Echo as their family. In fact, Mr. Breckham was correct in assuming it would benefit the turtles. Echo learned to cut loose a little more and have fun from his time just chilling with Apollo, Captain learned more about protective anger, and Dragon learned to control his temper by mimicking Echo's behavior.

And for a while, everything was good. As the turtles grew, they harmonized and helped each other, much like a single body that is made up of many parts, all of which give and take from each other to reach a common goal. Take any one away and you could crash the system.

Especially DO NOT threaten the runt, or you will face the wrath of an extremely dangerous red-eyed terrapin.

Thankfully, most people were smart enough to follow that rule. Until _that _day.

It was a quarter to closing time and Davey was in the back room, sorting through old terrariums to find the right size for a new shipment of bearded dragons. The front door opened and the little bell dinged, making Rebecca look up from her paperwork. She smiled kindly at the young brunette and his seven-year-old blonde daughter, who was looking around the small shop with curious brown eyes. Her gaze came to rest on an unsuspecting baby turtle, and she squealed with delight, breaking away from her father to run over and slam her little fists against the glass. The turtles all jumped, and the poor runt who had caught her eye peed himself before retreating into his shell in fear of the annoying _thing _that just wouldn't stop _shouting_.

"Daddy, Daddy I want! I WANT!" She shouted, jumping up and down.

"Princess, we came for a kitty, remember?"

"NO DADDY! I WANT! I WANT PRETTY LIZARD!"

"Lili, Baby, it's a turtle, and you know mommy doesn't like reptiles."

"I. WANT!" She wailed, making her father sigh in defeat as Rebecca cringed in the background.

Moving around the girl who seemed super-glued to the glass container, Becca reached down and grabbed Apollo from his hiding spot under a decorative rock. She handed the baby to Lili, showing her how to position her hands and telling her to be very quiet and gentle. Seeming content with what Lili was doing, both adults went back to the cash register, at the other end of the store. As soon as they were out of earshot, Lili turned around and started jumping up and down excitedly, squealing in a pitch so high, only dogs could hear it. Apollo flopped helplessly in her hands as he tried to escape her death grip, to no avail.

Turning around again, Lili finally noticed the red eyes staring intently at her. Momentarily forgetting Apollo and dropping him on the floor, she walked up and reached into the tank. Below her, Apollo sat irritatedly on his shell as he watched his brother stare the beast down.

As she haphazardly held the turtle on her fingers, she jumped up and down again in joy, at one point kicking Apollo a few feet away. He cried out in fear as he hit the wall shell-first, landing on his belly with a sore leg but otherwise unharmed. But when Echo heard that pitiful sound of terror, he snapped. **Pardon the pun**.

He bit down on her finger hard, but being smart enough to only give her pain, and not break the skin. Still, she dropped him with an "EEP!" and he landed on his head. Thankfully not too hurt, he made a desperate dash for his baby brother, but Becca beat him to it, having heard the girl's cry and come running.

Not seeing Echo, Becca scooped up the trembling slider and put him back with his brothers before frantically realizing one was still missing from the tank. Just then, Lili's father got to her side, and kneeled down, looking her over before asking, "Princess, are you alright? Did the turtle hurt you?"

She nodded with her lip sticking out in an obnoxious pout before turning to point at the offending terrapin.

"He bit me, stupid turtle! Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" She screamed, then stomped down on his left back leg. He cried out in agony, which brought his master running to his side, swooping down and wrapping him in his arms protectively, then shooting the girl a death glare. She just stuck out her tongue and walked out to their car without another word, much less an apology. Her father mumbled rapidly as he ran out to join her, driving away.

Donovan was a very patient man, but it was times like this where he was ready to throw punches. A whimpering hiss from his son's arms brought his mind back to the task at hand; treating David's companion. He took him from the crook of Davey's arm and carried him to the back room while the olive green, ninja-masked turtle held in his pained grunts and whimpers the best he could. But his leg hurt like you wouldn't believe. His brain supplied the word, _shattered _and another -even worse- word, _irreparable. _He chose not to think of those things.

He barely made a peep as his mangled leg was poked, prodded, and positioned, until it was wrapped loosely in a few layers of tissue paper and a single layer of bubble wrap. Echo already knew the problem and several solutions, but his master's father was only human, and could think of no other way to fix his shattered bones. He thought of Captain's serenity, Dragon's strength, and Apollo's silliness to get him through his ordeal.

"Will he be okay, Dad?" Davey asked in a small voice. Donovan could sense the anxiety and worry in his son.

"I think he'll be okay very soon, son." He replied in a light voice, ruffling his son's hair and chuckling.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Two months had passed and still the turtle limped. It didn't hurt anymore, but he could no longer fully extend the limb, bend it, or walk correctly. Another examination proved everyone's worst fears: his bones had healed completely wrong. The makeshift cast had not been tight enough, as Echo had known but could do nothing about, causing the bones to shift drastically out of place before reconnecting differently. Despite his strong body, they all knew Echo was too young to survive any kind of correctional surgery. Even if he was, they couldn't afford it; not for a little turtle they would have to sell anyway. No, Mr. Breckham's best option was to put him down humanely. After all, they had to sell all the turtles soon, and who would pay for a crippled, baby mutant turtle?

His answer came a week later, two days before Echo's death date.

David was spending as much time as possible with his beloved terrapin before that awful day. He had noticed a change in Echo's behavior, almost as if he _understood _that he was going to die. He would mope around more, avoided contact with his brothers, and sulked in corners to think.

Most of his thoughts ran along the lines of _who will take care of my brothers? Who will keep them from fighting? Who will Youngest play with? Now I'll never learn to read! Why me? What did I do to that girl to deserve something like this? _All in all, his thoughts further depressed him as well as giving him the mother of all headaches. He didn't think turtles could even _get _headaches. 'Learning something new everyday, aren't I?' He thought bitterly.

Thankfully Davey sensed his distress and took him to the front desk, where he sat on the counter and rubbed soothing circles on Echo's long neck. As he continued to rub, the terrapin could feel the thoughts dying down until they were but whispers in the back of his mind. His giant red eyes eventually fell closed, and he sank into a deep meditative state. Davey smiled a bit as his friend lightly snoozed, curled up adorably in his arms.

The annoying little bell tinkled lightly to announce someone's arrival. As the little boy looked up from his turtle, a man in his late twenties approached the sales counter and cleared his throat politely.

"I read the signs on your window. I am here to purchase four baby turtles, if they are truly ten dollars each." He said in a thick accent that David guessed was Japanese. He nodded and set a groggy Echo on his shoulder, waiting for the familiar feeling of claws firmly gripping his shirt before slowly standing and leading the man to the display tank.

Apollo was currently swimming around jovially, splashing his sleepy older brothers who were trying their best to ignore him. Captain watched unblinkingly as a small hand removed Dragon from their habitat and passed him to a strange man somewhat reluctantly. The man was a natural as it turned out, knowing already how to hold them properly and even managing to diffuse the time bomb that was Dragon. The child giggled as the normally hot-headed slider snuggled into the man's shirt, and happily acquired a glass bowl that the man set his first turtle in. Setting the small bowl aside, he reached in and grabbed Captain next, who stayed perfectly still as he was lifted. The man took him from Davey's arms and put him into one palm, using the other hand to trace the unique patterns of his shell. Captain was still warily eying his captor, but leaned ever-so-slightly into his gentle touch. The man grinned and dropped the oldest brother into the bowl, where he immediately started sending clicking signals to Echo, who remained perched on his master's shoulder.

The same process was repeated with Apollo, the only turtle left in the tank. He eagerly climbed up the stranger's arm and sat on his shoulder, gaining a toupee as the man's black hair covered his head. He was retrieved and placed on top of Captain's shell, and said turtle shook him off and nipped the runt affectionately.

"I'm sorry sir, but we only have the three." Davey said sadly. The man could sense the sadness rolling off of him. Davey was now desperately trying to keep Echo- who was madly attempting to reach the other turtles- on his shoulder.

"Please, call me Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi. And what about the turtle currently tearing your shirt apart?" Yoshi asked with a raised brow. David smiled sadly and sheepishly.

"Oh, he's just overprotective of his brothers." So they were brothers? Peculiar.

"Why not just sell him with them?" Mr. Hamato asked pleasantly. The young boy took a deep breath before speaking.

"Oh, well he's having health issues and so my dad's gonna... gonna...**sigh**... he's gonna put him down." He finished as his voice cracked and a single tear slipped down his face, and as Echo rubbed his cheek comfortingly with his own.

"It's not fair! A little brat broke his leg and Dad can't fix it and he'll never walk normally again and he has to die and no one will buy him and he's really nice and he doesn't deserve it and-" David was now full-out sobbing and Echo was holding his head down sadly as well.

Mr. Hamato watched the scene with growing sadness, feeling overwhelming compassion for the poor boy. He came to a quick decision, and shook the child's shoulder gently to get his attention.

"I will buy him and make sure he lives a long and happy life with his brothers. Would that be good?" He asked slowly.

Davey was tempted to say no, but he knew also that if no one bought him, Echo would die. He couldn't let that happen; Echo was like family, and family does whatever it takes to keep each other healthy and safe; even if they don't like what they must do.

"Okay... you may buy him." He finally responded. Yoshi smiled and handed the boy $40, which was hurriedly put in the cash register.

David spent the next twenty minutes explaining care and keeping of turtles, and Echo's special diet. Yoshi was amazed at how dedicated this child was to his pets. When Davey was done speaking, the older man curiously studied the reptile sitting on the counter between them.

The skin color was unusually light compared to his brothers. His scarlet eyes were piercing and shone with almost human-like intelligence and a hunger for knowledge. He had very long legs and a very short tail, and his talon-like claws were quite sharp, but strangely short. The beak was quite sharp as well, and his shell had a completely different pattern than his brothers'.

Mr. Hamato wondered why this one was so different from the other three if they were brothers.

"You know, his markings resemble a ninja mask." He stated in amusement.

"Oh yeah! I guess it does! Cool!"

"Why is this one different from his brothers?" Yoshi asked, pointing to the terrapin who had limped to the other end of the counter and was pacing anxiously, having caught sight of his imprisoned siblings.

"His dad isn't the same as the others'. His dad was a mystery species, but he and Terra produced a rare genetic mutant thing!" Ah, a genetic mutant.

"He is a super duper rare speckled red-eared slider. He has some awesome features too! Like his awesome smartness!" He paused before calling, "Hey, Echo! Come here, buddy! Come here!" Said turtle looked up at the sound of his master calling, and slowly but determinedly made his way over Davey's outstretched hand.

Yoshi was surprised at the level of intelligence this terrapin obviously possessed. David chuckled and then pulled his turtle friend close so that Echo was sitting right in front of the boy. Davey noticed Mr. Hamato's amazed stare and huffed proudly.

"I've been training him. Apollo and Captain just don't get it, and Dragon flat-out ignores me. Echo here is the only one that listens. Watch!" He craned his neck until his face was level with the olive turtle's, and made sure no stray fingers were too close to it.

"Echo, tiger!" He cried. The turtle's razor-sharp claws immediately shot out to their full length, which was around four inches. Davey patted his head and Yoshi was trying to get his jaw off the floor. Guess he was wrong about the short nails.

"Good boy! Ready? Echo, giant!" Claws retracted to their nubby size, the tiny turtle stood on his hind legs- quite a feat for a crippled terrapin- and opened his impressive beak.

"Echo, speak!" Still on his hind legs, Echo bellowed as loudly as he could, and quite impressively, too.

"Echo, shark!" The turtle fell back on all fours and chomped the air menacingly.

"Disco ball!" He dropped onto his shell, Davey spun him a little, and his claws emerged to create a spinning ball of death.

"Echo, finish!" Echo hopped up on his legs- his bad leg giving out for a moment- and limped over to his master where he received praise and a minnow treat.

Still unsure how to respond, Yoshi applauded in awe at the amazing abilities of a crippled baby pet shop turtle. A huge grin broke out on Davey's face, and he urged Yoshi to give Echo a pet on the head for his efforts. The turtle surprisingly let himself be touched, and even limped closer to Yoshi and snuggled into his shirt. Both humans chuckled and Yoshi realized with a pang of regret that it was time to go, as the others were getting cagey.

"I am very sorry David, but I must be going. You may say goodbye to him, if you want."

David nodded vigorously whilst holding back a flood of tears and approached the sleepy terrapin who had been his best friend for the past seven months. Echo snuggled his hand lovingly and reassured Davey in many more ways than he knew. The pain he was experiencing wasn't from saying goodbye, it was from knowing that he might not ever see his beloved turtles again.

"Goodbye, Echo Einstein Breckham Hamato. Be good, take care of your brothers, and please remember me." He whispered into his ear. Davey placed one last kiss on the red-speckled head before backing up, finally letting the tears fall as he watched Mr. Hamato walk away.

Standing in the doorway, Yoshi turned back one final time and said,

"I promise you that someday you two will meet again."

Davey smiled through his tears.

"I know. That's what I'm counting on."

And after one last friendly smile, Hamato Yoshi carried his best friend and his favorite pets away into the late summer evening.

"Goodbye, my friend."

To Be Continued

~Patience is a virtue~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I seriously hope I'm doing this right! Hey guys, this is violet-bo. This is my VERY FIRST FANFIC! YAY! I'd really appreciate comments and reviews, should I write more? Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles, but I do own Davey, Donovan, Becca, Terra, Democritus, and you get the gist.

Chapter Two: Look At Me Now

Breckham's Pet Shop*New York City*Present Day

I hissed angrily as the cold puddle-water splashed my legs and soaked my frozen companion. Democritus was a bearded dragon just shipped in after Viviana was sold. He had my shoulder in his death grip, his sharp claws snagging my flesh as he ignored my obvious pain.

Today had been a pretty crappy day. Terra had died suddenly, cutting off my supply of purebreed baby turtles, and also leaving behind twelve runty hatchlings, none of which survived more than two hours without her. I had gotten a letter from Becca, talking about how happy she was having left the family business to get a big break in her acting career. I missed her dearly. My girlfriend of two weeks dumped me, saying I was too selfish to talk to her. I couldn't help it; I'm naturally an introvert and have been since my mother died. And last but not least, I had to deal with this clingy lump of brainless annoyance mangling my shoulder. Yup, pretty much the normal life for Davey Breckham.

I turned right into the familiar alleyway that lead to the warmth of my shop. I trudged twenty paces past the decaying rat body, and turned left into the doorway of my humble abode. As I placed Democritus in his new terrarium in the display window and filled his tank with crickets, my sad thoughts turned to the depressing fact that he was nothing like my living Vivi. She was very gentle and friendly. But, like all good pets, a sale is just around the corner.

It was well past closing time, the sun having set below the horizon hours ago. I stayed after-hours often, because as manager and sole employee, I was needed. 'It's not like there's anyone at home to miss me' I thought bitterly.

In an exhausted stumble, I found myself across the room, sitting against the cat display.

Markie the tabby rubbed her long furry body across the bars behind my head, her prickly fur tickling the back of my neck. Thank God for animal friends. They were all I had to keep me company, seeing as I had a hard time making actual _human _friends. Animals looked past the words and judged you by your actions; be nice, you get niceness; be mean, you get bitten.

Markie reached her paw out and rested it on my shoulder, her sharp claws gently gripping my shirt. It reminded me so much of-

No, don't you dare think about that.

I jerked to my feet, startling Markie in the process, and ran to the front desk, ripping the plastic bag from the trashcan and furiously marching to the back door. I chucked the smelly crap as hard as I could at the wall opposite, wrappers and used cat litter flying everywhere and coating the dumpster in disgusting grey dust.

I sat on the concrete step dejectedly as the faded yellow glow of the alley light shone on my soaking wet back. For the hundredth time this year, I considered whether or not my life was worth it anymore. Maybe... it should just be _over_. No, I couldn't possibly do that to all the animals that depended on me... the animals like Democritus, who cause me nothing but pain...**sigh**.

I put my head in my hands as memories of happier times overwhelmed me before I could repress them.

_A beautiful olive head, masked in red, rubbing a sharp beak gently on my tearstained face; comforting me as I stared at the photo of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Today was the anniversary of my mother's loss to breast cancer. Echo was my only comfort, my only friend, the only one who listened and cared about my feelings while my father went out and drank himself senseless to relieve his pain and my sister locked herself in her room, not to come out for the next three days._

_Walking past Echo's tank a few weeks after that to find my Rubix Cube, completely solved. Becca and Dad both swore under God that they didn't touch the thing, which had been thoroughly messed up the day before. Echo seemed to have a mischievious glint in his eye that day._

_Snuggling with my favorite terrapin after _another _hard day at school, complete with tons of homework, public humiliation thanks to the teacher, getting a tub of melted butter dumped on my head by my favorite bully, and walking home in the rain. Echo was curled in my lap, looking up at me with his large, piercing scarlet eyes, clicking and hissing in his own unique turtle language that I had grown familiar to. I knew all his looks, his noises and clickings, I knew when he was feeling down, and he knew the same of me. It was like just by looking at me in that special way, he had given me the strength to wipe away the mucous and tears, to open my first textbook and get my homework done early so that we could spend the rest of the afternoon happily playing, once again effectively making me forget my school troubles._

And then the more troubling memories that made my happy tears evaporate to be immediately replaced with anguished ones.

_A man walking away away with my best friend._

"_I promise you that you two will meet again someday."_

I sighed, knowing these thoughts were getting me nowhere. Wiping the tears and mucous off my face as I had once done so long ago, I stood and was about to go inside when I was distracted by something above me. There was a loud sound of crunching gravel and scraping concrete as a shadowed figure gracefully leaped from the roof of the neighboring building, and onto mine.

A/N: Okay, so this was WAY shorter than last time, and it was originally going to be longer, but I thought I would just divvy it up a little more. R&amp;R, if that's what the crazy peeps on here are saying! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hey guys, thanks so much to those who reviewed! They helped me know what I was doing right and wrong, so I just wanted to say a special thank you to those who took the time to do so! THANK YOU! **_

_**Anyway, on with the show!**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles, but Davey and his family are **__**mine**__**.**_

**Chapter 3: A Rooftop Encounter**

I frantically ran up the concrete stairwell that led to the roof. My ratty old sneakers made wet squelching noises with each step, leaving a soggy footprint behind. My mind was racing with worst-case scenarios: _It must be those freaking teens again, smoking pot or weed or something else, probably a brand new, super-illegal substance for all I know. And then the cops will take _me _into custody again, and I'll lose an arm and a leg paying bail. Maybe it's a robber, come to take what little I have. Well, he's not going to take my only reason to live._

The closer to the roof I got, the more obvious were the sounds of someone's presence. Just when I reached the door and had my hand on the bar, a young voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Gosh dang it! Raph, I swear, if I don't die from hypothermia, I _will _kill you." The voice muttered angrily.

Hypothermia? In August? Must have said 'hyp_er_thermia'. Either that or he was a total kook.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I switched off the lights in the stairwell before silently easing the metal door open and sneaking behind the shed a few paces to the left. He was standing on the ledge that looks over Seventh Street, standing perfectly still. Thankfully, the visitor seemed too preoccupied by something he was frustratedly fussing over in his hand to notice as I crouched to my knees and watched his silhouette.

The lighting being annoyingly horrible, I could only make out his general shape and build, not being able to see his face or race or clothes. I knew from the voice that he was obviously male, though in his teens judging by the pitch. _Puberty... _A smile crept to my face momentarily.

He was about 6 foot 2 inches, his arms thin and long like his legs, but both seeming to get wider the lower down you looked. His back was strangely arched, yet his chest was ramrod straight, indicating impeccable posture. Must have been his shoulder blades, or something. He would sometimes shift from one foot to the other, though if you looked closely, you could see that he favored his right side a teensy bit more. There was also a large stick protruding diagonally from his back.

As I studied him intently, my legs started tingling from bad circulation, and I had to shift my position carefully to get my blood pumping. But as my foot shifted to the side, it scraped a pebble across the hard ground, making the tiniest of scratching noises. I cringed.

The teen shot around to face me fully, and in the faded lights behind him I could see how he was quite a bit rounder on the sides. He crouched down into an almost-squat, and his right hand put the strange device in his pocket while his left hand grabbed the stick from his back.

"Who's there?" When I remained silent, my hand slapped over my mouth and nose, he shuffled over to the edge of the roof, preparing to jump, it seemed.

But then a bunch of strange men jumped out of nowhere. They had appeared so suddenly that I had to clamp my jaw to keep from crying out in surprise. The strange teen with the large shoulder blades was soon surrounded by the black-clad men, and he stood in a defensive position with his stick slanted sideways to protect his chest.

"I'm not in the mood right now, guys!" He joked half-heartedly. When the opponents didn't respond other than to pull out large swords, he jumped with surprising grace over their heads and landed on the roof of the shed I was currently having a panic attack behind.

"Come on, Leo! Why aren't you answering your cell?!" He muttered as he typed furiously into a small device in his oversized hand. When the strangers got closer, he sighed and backed away as far as he could, obviously not wanting any trouble.

The group of newcomers were even stranger than the teen standing right above me. I could vaguely see a red sash on each waist donning a white footprint, and masks with bugging eyes. They all looked exactly the same, although, I guess most ninjas were supposed to. _Ninjas_…

Finally seeming to have had enough, the teen twirled his staff and deftly knocked at least five of the twenty men to the other end of the roof, where they lay completely still. But with his staff still by his right side after the attack, it left his other side open for the remaining men to pounce on him, pinning him to the ground. He struggled and thrashed desperately, but as his arms and legs were held down and his staff thrown off to the side, one of the ninja stood above him and readied his sword-_ katana_, I corrected myself- to slice the boy's head off.

Without thinking, I ripped a rusted pipe from the side of the shed and ran the offending ninja through, and his eyes flickered with purple electricity before he broke down and died. Robots, huh? Interesting…

As I recovered from the the realization that I had just _stabbed_ something, another five ninjas seemingly forgot the boy and ran at me, flinging me into the shed's brick wall and knocking the air out of me with an _oof!_

The ninjas surrounded me as I lay panting, and I clenched my fists as I waited for the final blow. But it was never delivered.

The boy on the ground realized I was in trouble and flung the robots off himself with surprising strength, grabbed his stick, and squeezed it to reveal a concealed blade in the tip. _Naginata_, my mind supplied. He decapitated the remaining bots and held out a hesitant hand to me, which I gratefully took. I opened my mouth to thank him, but was interrupted when his large hand shot up to his long neck, rubbing at the spot where a fuzzy dart could be seen protruding from the sensitive flesh. The source of the dart, a lone ninja on the neighboring roof, ran away into the night moments later.

The stranger gasped in panic and sank dizzily to his knees, and I put my arm around him to help get my savior inside. But stopped dead in my tracks.

There was something… off about his back, yet somehow familiar. He noticed my shock and gasped out, "It's alright, I know I'm… di-different, but I n-need your help an' I won-won't hurt you, I s-s-swear." And then he lost consciousness.

Thoughts were rushing through my mind at a million miles per hour, not being able to decide if I should call the cops, run, or help this young boy. My decision was made for me when he groaned and then vomited all over the ground surrounding us. I scooped him up, thinking about how heavy he was, and what was that weird metal thing attached to the weird thing on his back as I half-walked half-dragged him down the stairwell.

I was greeted with an annoyed mew from Markie as I entered the shop and dragged the sickly thing into the back storage room. I leaned blindly against an old pile of tanks before rushing over and turning the lights on, and then studying my visitor in utmost shock and fascination.

This boy. Was. A. Dream. Come. True.

A giant, walking-and-talking turtle!

I went to his side and ran my hand over his scratched-and-scarred yellow plastron, feeling the unique texture of each plate. His head was round and hairless, of course, and his neck was surprisingly long. A royal purple ninja mask covered his eyes, and the long tails swept over his shoulder and rested the frayed ends on his plastron. I was partially shocked at this total unexpected event, but not at all afraid of this turtle. After all, I was a licensed veterinarian, a reptile lover, and this boy had just saved my life.

He was leaning awkwardly against the plastic containers, so I dragged a large foam mat in for him to lay on, just remembering his condition. Even as he lay more comfortably on the yellow mat, his shell must have been uneven as his right side stuck up more.

Turning him over, I realized it wasn't his shell, it was what was _on _his shell.

The dark green, octagonally-patterned keratin was mostly covered by some form of techno-stuff. It formed a backpack of sorts, but it was imbedded in the surface. His shell was worn and cracked a little from lack of proper care, and the avid turtle lover in me cringed. There was a thick cord coming from the top of the device on his back, and after a bit of searching I found what looked like half a pair of binoculars with a red lens and seemed specially fitted to be worn on the turtle's right eye. All seemed to be made out of spare parts and junk. His olive green arms and legs were very scrawny, but whatever meat he _did _have on him was thick muscle.

He groaned and coughed more, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain. I quickly retrieved the first-aid kit from under the sales counter and began with checking his temperature. He was running a fever of 95*, which was actually quite high for a cold-blooded animal. Just then I realized the hypothermia comment had indeed made sense. His olive skin was drenched in droplets of sweat, though he shivered heavily as though he were caught naked in a snowstorm. I draped a fleece blanket over his scarred legs and took out a syringe.

"Alright, kid, I need a blood sample, okay?" I asked him gently as he gripped my free hand furiously. I had no idea whether or not he was even conscious.

He nodded, his eyes still clenched tightly shut. I sunk the needle into the thick skin of his forearm and drew the minimal amount of blood I needed. It was an unusual yellowish tint, strange even for a mutated turtle. I knew what poison it was.

The Poison of the Lotus Flower is known for its deadliness to reptiles especially. I studied it quite a bit in Veterinary Training. It attacks the nervous system, the blood cells, and the brain all at once, causing a long and painful death. There was no known cure, and the poison itself was so mysterious, they didn't even know where it came from. They just called it The Poison of the Lotus Flower because Deadly Poison was already taken. I had no idea what to do for this young turtle boy, who was slowly fading with every moment. His arms had started twitching and jerking, the muscles starting to spasm as they were attacked. I put a damp washcloth on his burning forehead and considered taking his mask off, but decided not to because people usually wore masks if they had something to hide, and I had no business snooping.

He let out a cry of pain and started thrashing violently, throwing off his blanket in the process and cracking a plastic tank. I gripped my head as I realized how little time was left for his life, thinking hard and long before remembering a solution my father came up with when I was younger.

_Business was slow that day, and the only customers in the shop were a woman playing with a cat and a suspicious-looking teenager. I watched from the stool by the counter as Dad walked up to the boy and asked him to please leave, and how the boy said no and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small vial of silvery liquid, and he held it in the light for everyone to see. Dad had held his hands up calmly and approached slowly as the teen explained the toxicity in the poison he held. And then with one swift move, Dad had knocked it out of his hand and punched him in the face, knocking him out as Becca called the cops. And then we found where the vial had landed. It had fallen on the decorative rocks inside of the turtle tank, and of course, Dragon had eaten some of the spilling liquid. He was on his back seizing as Dad pulled the vial out of the tank, threw it in the trash, and rushed Dragon to the back room where a metal table sat. He lay the turtle on it as I watched fearfully, anxiously pulling out a container of cream and rubbed it on Dragon's plastron, then putting him under a heat lamp as three red bumps continued to grow on the affected area. When I had been sure they would explode, Dad took a shot glass, covered the lip with honey, and pressed it over a bump. He repeated the process until all the bumps were gone, and Dragon was healthily nipping my fingers again. Years later he had shown me the recipe to his poison-removing invention, and I had used it many times after._

Maybe that would work, though this poison was much stronger than that kind, which had later proven to be liquidized Lead. If it didn't work, however, it would only increase his final pains and maybe even quicken his death. But I had to try something.

Giving his three-fingered hand a reassuring squeeze, I ran to grab my most recently-made batch of Dad's cream, and when I couldn't find any heat lamps large enough, I grabbed a portable one instead. When I returned the teen's breathing was labored and had an underlying wheeze that did not escape my notice. His eyes were still closed. His large hand found mine again and even though his squeezing hurt, I could tell he was getting weaker. I squeezed back.

"Okay, this is going to hurt, bud. A lot. But it should help you get better. Do you understand?" I asked. He opened his eyes and made direct contact with mine, and he nodded.

His nervous system was all out of whack, sending the brain random messages of "Hey, I'm in trouble" and such. Thus, his third protective eyelid was active, hiding his eyes' true colors from my curious gaze. For now, his eyes were an almost soulless white.

I unscrewed the cap to the white container and flung it off to the side. I noticed the slight tinge of blue in the corners, indicating I would need to replace it soon. But for that moment, it should be fine. Taking a glob of the cold substance on my fingers, I slathered it generously on his collar bone, upper arms, and neck, and he shivered a little harder. I meticulously cleaned the remainder of the cream from my digits before taking his hand in mine and trying to come up with ways to distract him from the pain that was to come.

"So, tell me about your family while I set up the lamp. That's the part that's gonna hurt. Tell me about this Raph person to distract your mind." He looked at me warily, the gears turning in his head as he internally debated whether or not I was trustworthy. While he was thinking, I set the heat lamp over his upper body and set up the stand so I wouldn't have to hold it. And then, without letting him protest, I flipped the switch and the bright orange light shone down furiously on him.

His hand gripped mine a lot harder and he breathed through clenched teeth as the worse pain started.

"I-I've got three brothers named Raph Leo and Mikey and we live with our father in a secret place and Leo's the leader and he's really bossy but once you get used to it it's not so bad-" He stopped for a labored breath, "-Raph is nice sometimes but mostly he's just really mean and uses us as his own personal punching bags but he's just overprotective and Mikey's the goofball and he makes us laugh and makes Raph mad and Father is really patient and nice and taught us how to fight like I'm sure you saw me doing and we all have our own weapons mine is the naginata but people underestimate me because I'm the weaker fighter and I don't use the blade part often and-" his breaths were panicked now and he tried to arch his back, but I held my hand on his plastron to restrain him. He talked quickly through the pain and eventually stopped talking altogether as wave after wave of pain wracked his weak body.

The seven red bumps were starting to form already, thankfully confirming my hopes that this would work. Finally the bumps seemed at the bursting point, and I did the hardest part. Turning off the lamp, I grabbed my antique Salt Lake City shot glass, slathered honey on the lip, and held it over the first bump, located just above his collar bone. I waited a moment, then carefully removed the shot glass from his skin and wiped any remaining pus from his now flawless skin. Repeating the process on the other six bumps until he was finally cleaned of the poison, he sighed in relief when the shot glass was taken from the site of the last bump. His breathing slowed down to a normal pace, and his eyelids drooped down in a relaxed manner.

Finally allowing myself to sit back for a moment, I grabbed a bag of dried minnows and tossed it to him. He sat straight up and caught it with sharp reflexes before shooting me a curious look and popping one in his mouth.

And that moment is when his nervous system stopped being all screwed up, and his protective eyelid finally dropped, allowing me to gaze into his eyes for the first time.

Burning scarlet orbs stared back into mine as he gazed at me intently. They were bright red with brown rings and a layered look to them.

They burned with a fierce knowledge and curiosity about everything around him. They shone with patience and passion and love and kindness. They shone with a light I had only seen on one other before.

"…Echo?"

_**Ha! Cliffhanger! Don't worry, more is on the way! Also, to clear a few things up that I probably should have earlier:**_

_**1) This is supposed to be based off the Nickelodeon series, though I changed Donnie's appearance a little and even added a few details of his looks from the upcoming movie!**_

_**2)No, this is not an actual poison, I have no idea if that "curing" process is a real thing, this whole turtle health thing is just what I imagine it is. I am- believe it or not- basically clueless on turtle care, so DO NOT TRY ANY OF THIS AT HOME ON YOUR POOR PET TURTLES!**_

_**Thanks! R&amp;R**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading! Here's Chapter Four!**_

_**Disclaimer: None of this is mine except for the Breckham Family.**_

_**Chapter Four: A Very Sherlock Moment**_

The turtle cocked an eye ridge at me for a moment, and then jumped up into a defensive position as his muddled thoughts finally caught up to the present. His right leg caught on the edge of a tank, though, and gave him a good-sized cut that was bleeding freely down to his feet. He didn't seem to notice as he continued to stare at me, studying my every move.

"How the heck do you know my codename?!" He finally demanded. I just sat with my hands up in a surrendering sign.

"Because, that's your name. Your _real _name. Don't you remember?" I asked, my heart shattering at the words "code name" and crushing at the realization that he didn't.

"Dude, I don't know who you are or who you work for, but you're gonna start explaining to me right now how you know my _secret _codename."

I sighed in exasperation.

"I was your best friend! I haven't seen you in-" I checked my math "-16 years!" He scoffed at my ridiculous notion.

"You must have the wrong turtle, because I _am _16\. What, were we best friends when I was a hatchling?" He chuckled, his purple mask tails bouncing against his scarred plastron.

"Actually, yes." I muttered. He stared at me incredulously. Snapping out if it a moment later, he put on a fierce face and glared at me.

"Oh yeah? Prove it, and maybe I'll let you go."

"Fine." I said, accepting his challenge.

I thought long and hard on what to say to my former best friend to convince him of the truth. He thought he was so smart, well now it's time to show him where he got some of his skills.

"Your shell is cracked and covered in algae." I started.

"So what?"

"There are scrub marks and an obvious lack of dirt, though, indicating that someone has been trying to take care of it, but doesn't get around to it often and doesn't realize your different needs from your brothers'. The cracks are mostly centered on the left side of your shell, due to more blows on that side from being unable to properly protect it."

He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.

"The algae is a special kind that only grows in very dark places, and coupled with the sludge on your foot wrappings, I would deduce that you live in the sewers. Your mask is quite thick for a ninja mask, indicating something to hide. I bet you I can guess what that is." I looked at him pointedly.

"So…? You still haven't proven that you know me. For all I know, you could be a spy for the Foot." He huffed, desperate to avoid being proven wrong. I sighed and continued on a different path.

"Your brother, 'Raph', is the aggressive one as you said."

His hand going up interrupted me.

"When did I say this?"

"When you were poisoned and loopy."

"Ah. Continue. What about Raph?"

"When you were babies in this very pet shop, he was very protective of his brothers. Dragon was what I named the aggressive/protective one. If I'm right and Raph is Dragon, then he has a lightning-bolt shaped crack on the top left plate of his plastron. Am I correct?" He sat silently, leaning more calmly against a crate.  
"He got that when he was just a hatchling, when my sister freaked after he bit her and she dropped him." I could see the curious glint in his eyes.

"Apollo- or, as you apparently call him- Mikey, loves to antagonize Raph, right?" I asked. He cocked his head and stayed silent.

"And that leaves 'Leo' which I'm assuming is your team leader. I named him Captain."

"And if I didn't know you, how would I know this?" I asked, and clicked my tongue a few times in imitation of what Echo used to do.

The teen's eyes grew wide and his pupils dilated to slits as he cocked his head the other way. He clicked back in a different pattern unique to Echo, almost like he was in a trance. I smiled at the memories it brought back as that noise left his mouth.

His eyes widened when he realized what he was doing, and shook his head as if to rid himself of troubling thoughts.

"You could still be a spy. Tell me something that only a person who knew us personally would know." He said as calmly as he could. 'Alright,' I thought, 'Time to break out the big guns.'

"You can't eat the same foods as your brothers. While they have a diet of algae and worms, your diet is strictly limited to fruits and meats. Their foods make you sick, like when a dog eats something dairy." He raised a shocked eyebrow and I smiled inwardly, knowing I was on the right track.

"You're a good few inches taller than your brothers. Your legs are just longer and your neck is longer as well. Your skin is lighter than theirs. Your shell is octagonal while theirs is pentagonal. You're the pacifist of the group. People often underestimate you because of that, but you can be the deadliest of all when you get angry."

He seemed to be blushing dark green at all the attention I was giving him alone, instead of his siblings.

"You are the second youngest, Captain-Leo, I mean- is the oldest, Raph is the second oldest, and Mikey is the youngest."

"Wait, what did you call Leo again?" He interjected.

"Captain. I named him that when you were for sale here." He looked at me with a strange grin on his pale face.

"What? I was eight, okay? Cut me some slack!" I felt my cheeks heating.

"Anyway, if I didn't know you, how would I know about your red mask?" I asked a little accusingly. His too-pale face drained of any color at all.

"B-but my mask is purple. See?" He countered weakly. It was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

"Your _real _mask. Your _red _mask." I said sternly. He gasped, then sighed in defeat and reached his long arms around his head. Moments later, the lavender cloth fell to his lap.

Looking into his red eyes masked in deeper red, any small doubts I had had before completely vanished. There was only one turtle I had ever seen that looked like he had a rash around his eyes. There was only one turtle that had red eyes in general. There was only one Echo, and this was most certainly he.

"How did you know? I've never told anyone, not even my brothers!" He exclaimed in confusion.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I. Am. Your. Best. Friend. I took care of you guys when you were little hatchlings, no bigger than my arm." I was getting frustrated. However, the uncertain-but-not-totally-opposed look in his scarlet orbs brought hope to me in the realization that I had almost won him over, but he just needed a little prodding.

"Whatever. Give me one more fact that you know and explain how _exactly _you know it. Every detail. Then maybe I'll believe you." He huffed, crossing his arms.

I sighed as I brought out the final blow, the move that would bring me to a checkmate if it played out just right.

"Your left side is more scarred than your right. Scratches, bruises, and cracks, from various weapons and blows to that side. Now, I've seen you in action, and I'm pretty sure that someone of your skill level could protect their body a bit better than that." I began, and he paled impossibly further.

"But you can't, can you? No, I don't mean you're a bad ninja or anything, but I mean you physically _cannot _protect that whole side of your body. The bottom half, at least. Sure, you're good at hiding it, the fact that you can't fully extend that leg, walk properly, or put your full weight on it. But even in a battle against someone weaker than yourself, that one hesitation or lack of full response could cost you dearly. That's why you chose the Bo staff, isn't it? I'm assuming you chose your own weapon. You chose it because it's like an extension of your arms, or in your case, a replacement leg."

His mouth was opened so wide, I thought his jaw would fall off.

"I know this because I was there when your leg was damaged. So, one day I was cleaning some tanks in the back room…" I drifted off into my memories as I told the story.

"Believe it or not, you were born with normal legs. Anyways, so this girl walks into our shop all bratty-like, and when her old man wasn't looking, she grabs Apollo and starts jumping and shaking him, and he's all sick and crying and hurt. So you- being the protective big brother you've always been- somehow got the brat to pick you up and drop him instead. But she somehow ended up kicking him across the room, and I guess when you heard him shriek, you lost it and bit her. But, always the smarty-pants, you made sure not to make her bleed 'cause you don't like hurting. She dropped you, then stomped on your tiny little leg, and shattered all the bones in it. My dad couldn't afford corrective surgery, so it never healed properly. And that's how I know. I'll bet even to this day, you still have a limp, whether it's just a stress-limp or what, but I know it's there." I finished, eyeing him intensely, begging him silently to please believe me.

Finally, he spoke after what seemed like hours of silence.

"I-I believe you. I guess. Nobody knew about the limp. Nobody except Master Splinter."

I let out a sigh of relief and held back annoying tears.

"Now, Echo, please, tell me about your life. I've been dying to know what happened to you for sixteen years. I don't know if it was the pitiful whine underlying my voice, or the fact that he was too exhausted to argue, but he told me.

He told me stories that belonged in a fairy tale book. Stories of magical goo and giant rats and Japanese heritage. He explained his lab and his experiments, how he sometimes suspected that he was different from his brothers, and he reluctantly mumbled about a crush of his on a redhead. I didn't know how to react other than glad that Hamato Yoshi had not intentionally ignored or forgotten me. Finally, a question occurred to me that I probably should have thought of hours ago.

"If, Echo's not your real name, what is it?" I asked hesitantly, afraid of his answer for some irrational reason.

He straightened his posture, tied his mask back on his face, and adjusted it to cover his blotchy red mask of skin.

"My name is Hamato Donatello di Betto Bardi. Just call me Donatello, Donnie, Don, or whatever floats your boat." He said formally at first, then more casually as he finished speaking.

"… Why was I named Echo? I mean, my brothers' names I can understand since you named them after their personalities, but, was I like a silent forgotten whisper or something?" He asked, visibly deflating. I smiled warmly and fondly at one of my top favorite memories.

"No, of coarse not! You were always the only turtle who would bond with me. Your brothers never did trust me. You were always so sweet, especially kind and patient and trusting, and it was like you could see past my appearances as a scary stranger and judge me on what was inside. You were a huge relief for me, because no one else would befriend me on the basis of me being weird and antisocial. You loved me in a way no human ever could, with an intelligence that no other animal could. You brought light to a friendless child who was living in the darkness of depression, helping him through the hardest time of his life, the loss-" I choked up a little- "the loss of his mother. His loving, gentle, kind mother who lived to bring peace and a sense of belonging to everyone. A woman whom a certain turtle amazingly resembled in every way. And so, I named you- a special turtle- with the most special name that could ever exist in my life. I named you after the most wonderful woman ever; whom would live on in you since the day you received your name. I named you after my mother, Echo Marie Breckham, whom I lost to breast cancer a year before you were born. So please, you may ask me to call you "Donatello" or "Donnie", but I will not. I will call you the name you were born into and have more than lived up to. Your name is, and always will be, Echo."

_**A/N: Kind of short I guess, not too bad, hopefully! I know, the emotional fluff is a little nauseatingly high in that last part, but I think it's important to communicate the meaningfulness of the situation this boy has been in his whole life. Anyway, R&amp;R!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Chapter 5! Once again, thanks to all those who reviewed! Anyway, Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: None of this is mine except for what is. You should know by now which is which.**_

_**Chapter Five: Q&amp;A and… more Q?**_

"Why do I look different from my brothers?"

"Because you're a mutant." He raised his eye ridge at me and gestured to himself.

"Well, duh. Where'd you get _that _from, oh Sherlock?" He said sarcastically.

"No, you're a genetic mutant. You probably know by now that your brothers are red-eared sliders. You should also know- judging by your intelligence- that you guys are biological brothers." His beak crinkled slightly in confusion. I sighed.

"Okay, well, you are. But you, my dear turtle, have a different father. You are a rare species called a speckled red-eared slider, which explains your red mask, red eyes, long limbs and neck, and sharper beak and claws." He nodded slightly.

"Wait, how does it explain my eye color?"

"Your breed has a special trait to determine gender. All males have red eyes, all females have brown."

"… Is our mother still around?" I shook my head sadly, and he dropped his head.

"Oh."

I pat his shoulder gently and he looked up into my eyes, almost like he was searching for something in my soul. Echo always seemed to have that effect on people.

"So, what's that stuff on your shell? I'm pretty sure you didn't have that sixteen years ago." I said jokingly, but genuinely curious.

"Oh, that. Well, it's not really a story I like to tell. Bad memories, you know?" But one look into my puppy dog eyes and he reluctantly changed his mind.

"Oh, fine. You win. Worse than Mikey, some people…" He muttered to himself. He turned to me, adjusting his position against the tanks a bit to sit more comfortably.

"It was two years ago. The Shredder, our greatest enemy, had taken over the West side of New York, and he was planning on spreading further." My face lit up slightly when my mind supplied me with a memory. "My brothers and I, we weren't exactly ready for such a challenge, I mean, we were like fourteen! But if we didn't do anything, all of NYC would fall victim to his ruthless rage against our father. So, I geared us up. Armored car, zip lines, shell cells, you name it, we had it. But it was no match for his raw fury." He looked at me, his bright red eyes a bit glassy.

"It was about halfway into our battle against Oroku Saki himself when he got a hit on Leo. Without our leader, we were somewhat lost. When Mikey went to check on him, Saki knocked him out too. I decided to put my defensive strategy to the test, and managed to keep them safe, but Raph ruined the plan when he struck out in rage at the wrong time. He was downed too." His voice cracked slightly, but I ignored it as I was sucked deeper into the story.

"I tried my best to protect them, but he effortlessly flung me aside. He almost killed all of them. Thankfully, I landed on my feet, and was able to block his deathblow. Unfortunately, he turned his full attention onto me, and I didn't stand a chance.

While I stood the defensive over their bodies, he took out two swords and it became impossible to stay on the defensive anymore. I started a fairly simple distractive kata to make some space, but my bad leg suddenly came up short, and he got advantage. He sliced a whole chunk off my shell." He winced at the memory.

"Of course, that's when Master Splinter arrived, and he managed to send Saki away, ending the battle and for the moment, saving the city.

My friend LeatherHead- a fellow scientist- did everything he could, but my shell was too damaged. My brothers were fine, but I seemed to have the most extensive injuries. So, I made light of the situation. I used my technological skills and developed a multi-purpose replacement shell that I can use to help me on missions. The eyeglass can scan anything and bring up endless archived information to my eyes, and the part on my back can be used for much more. Not exactly a happy ending, but useful all the same." He finished. I looked at him incredulously, as if he had just laid an egg.

"You lost your freaking shell?! What the heck is wrong with that guy?" I raged, partially to myself. Echo fixed me with an understanding miniature smile, and absently rubbed at his neck.

"Anyway, those were the guys I was fighting on your roof." Then his eyes suddenly shot open, and he jerked up, and then winced as his sore muscles pulled.

"Oh gosh! The guys! They'll be so worried!" He cried, yanking out a round, shell-shaped phone and pushing a few buttons. He threw it at the wall in exasperation.

"Crap! Dead." He took a calming breath and tried to stand, but ended up almost collapsing to his knees again, and I had to catch him.

"Gotta… get home…" He slurred a bit as he passed out from exhaustion. I pulled his arm around my shoulders and dragged him out to the main shop. Turning off lights as I went and locking the front door behind me, I took him outside and relied on the darkness of the night to shield us from view. The stars shone brightly in the sky above, and I took a moment to appreciate them like me and my mother used to do.

"Live… **cough**… two blocks to left… gotta get home…" He insisted. I sighed and started us in that direction. His legs were still weak from the poisoning earlier, but he tried his best to carry his weight. On the right leg, of course.

He jerked a little against my shoulder, and I took that as a signal to turn into the alley next to us. It was dark and full of dead rats and skinny stray cats, and a manhole cover sat in the middle of the dead-end. My whole body screamed at me to stop moving, but I was almost there, it was almost over, I couldn't give up.

_Thump._

Hesitantly I turned around, expecting a trashcan to be knocked over but finding nothing. Echo, however, tensed significantly and pointed to the rooftops above, his square-shaped fingers shaking and his arm going limp after a few moments. When he could no longer hold up his arm, he stared desperately at the spot in a last-ditch effort to tell me what was wrong.

I followed his gaze to see a dark shadowy figure wielding a katana, preparing to attack.

_**A/N: Cliffhangers hehee! How am I doing? Too rushed? Should I continue? R&amp;R!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Hey guys, next chapter! I would really appreciate some reviews, I still am not quite sure if I should continue. Thoughts? Anyways, enjoy the show!**_

_**Disclaimer: Pretend I do own this stuff. Now stop. Because I don't. Get your head out of the clouds!**_

_**Chapter Six: What The…?**_

The crushing weight of a distressed, still-recovering mutant turtle was almost forgotten in the shock of the moment. Somehow, it seemed all too surreal that a blade could be intended for me, a nobody who did nothing to anyone.

The moment ended as soon as it started, and I almost collapsed when my mind was brought back to the teen leaning on me. He groaned painfully, and I muttered hurried apologies to him whilst staring intently at the figure, waiting cautiously for it to jump.

When it finally did, katana raised and ready to strike, I pushed Echo into the corner of the alley and ducked to the side. With a crash and a few curses, he landed on a trashcan and knocked it over. The figure approached him threateningly, apparently not caring about me.

With a cry of desperation, I launched myself at them, barely clipping the face as my fist sailed past. A well-aimed kick to the stomach sent me into the opposite wall from my reptilian companion.

"Well well well, looks like we've got a fighter. A stupid one." A menacing female voice taunted. A blade was pressed against my throat, and my breathing quickened, my eyes clenching shut and my neck trying to stretch longer to somehow avoid being sliced.

"Pathetic." And then the katana was removed from my throat, and I gasped in mouthfuls of air. My relief was short-lived, however, as another kick met my face and I collapsed to the ground, my eyes bleary and my breaths slowing.

I could just make out the young woman walking towards Echo, her metal plating reflecting the streetlights rather violently into my eyes. I winced and refocused my vision.

The giant turtle was now unsteadily on his feet, leaning heavily against the wall for support. He had left his Bo staff on my roof, and now he found himself basically defenseless. The woman patiently waited for him to gain some footing before charging him with a loud battle cry, which he barely dodged. Her sword lodged in the dusty brick, the girl ninja snarled with ferocity that a tiger would envy and began throwing punches.

Many missed their mark by mere centimeters; others hit him full in the plastron and forearms. When he had finally had enough of this never-ending dance, he lashed out with his right leg and kicked her straight into the wall… six feet above our heads.

Landing on a fire escape and wiping blood from her forehead, she growled at him, and he growled straight back.

"Look, I've had enough of this, Karai. Please, just go." He demanded. Karai just chuckled and pressed something on her wrist.

My muddled brain couldn't pick up on what she said with clarity since she was a distance away, but it sounded like, 'Foot Bots, attack!'

And just like that, we were completely surrounded by the black-clad men from the roof. Where did they _come _from, I mean, what the heck? The only places they could have hidden were:

behind the tiny trashcans

behind the hilariously oversized women's underwear hanging on the clothesline above

crouched on the fire escapes

Or d) they materialized from thin air.

A pained grunt brought my thoughts back to the present, where my turtle was being bombarded with blows by multiple nunchuku. I could barely see the olive skin through the crowd of black robes and red sashes. He stood in the middle of the alley, the Foot forming a complete circle around him. He tried to defend himself, but his left leg happened to be the only one with an opening, and it came up short multiple times. New cracks and bruises and scrapes covered his left side especially, and a stream of blood flowed down his face.

My concussed mind was of course reminded of my playtime as a child.

"_Oh no! The jewels have been stolen again! Detective Echo, Detective Apollo, what do you make of this?" A chubby hand grabbed Apollo's shell and moved him slightly up and down as he 'spoke'._

"_Ah reckon it was that no-good, trouble-makin' hooligan… DR. DRAGON!" Echo spoke next._

"_Ah dunno, Phoebus. Mayor Captain seems mighty suspicious too!" Detective Echo was so good at his job; he could eat a leaf and speak at the same time! He blinked lazily up at me._

_A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my wild western world for a moment, and I looked up to see Becca, who was smiling down at me fondly._

"_Whatcha doing, Davey?" She asked. I shrugged._

"_Just playing with the turtles, I guess. I was bored. I promise I'll clean up when I'm done." I promised, expecting a good lecturing. She smiled a bit. My sister always had such a beautiful smile._

"_Do you want someone to play with?" She asked me, and I stared at her before nodding eagerly._

_She sat down next to me and grabbed Captain._

"_Well Ah do declayah, ya'll got the wrong toitle! It was the taigah! She luves dahmunds. Arrayest her!" She exclaimed in a weird accent._

'I remember when the tiger (a tiger-striped sock) got arrested, and Apollo was so happy that they got the diamond (a nickel) back!' I thought happily as the battle raged on.

Wait… tiger.

Tiger…

Tie…Ger…

Why does that sound so…

Oh gosh!

I jumped slightly, my lungs hitching and my eyes bulging. Echo! I had to tell Echo! But I just… couldn't… reach! My legs refused to listen to my brain, and my brain still didn't know what exactly to do about it.

"Echo!.. T-T…" I shouted, my voice hoarse and raspy and slurred.

He looked at me strangely, a worried eyeridge raised. His fighting suddenly increased ten-fold, desperately trying to get to me. But it was no use, he was swamped with ninjas.

"… tiger…" I finally forced out, though it was just barely loud enough to reach his ears.

There was a strange fleshy sound as his claws shot out to their full length, about 12 inches. He gave me a startled look, then a look of remembrance crossed his features and he smiled and impaled a few of his attackers. When that stopped working about six ninjas later, I tried something else.

"Echo, giant!" I shouted, louder than last time. His claws retracted, he jumped onto a nearby Foot Bot's shoulders, and opened his sharp beak menacingly.

"Echo, speak!" I exclaimed, and he roared so loudly, it seriously confused every bot, and several circuits fried from the vibrations, downing about three more.

"Echo… shark…" I was starting to black out, but I had to help him finish this. By now he had more room to move, and several Foot tried to get to me, since I obviously was controlling this. He dropped to all fours and ran right at my attackers, grabbing their techno-spine thingies and tearing them out. Seven more down, five to go.

"D- Disco ball!" I yelled, the last of my energy leaving me. He somersaulted through the air, landed on his shell, and spun so fast, he blurred even more than what blurriness I already saw. His claws came out again, and he decapitated the last of the bots.

"Echo… finish." I said, and finally blacked out. He had worriedly limped over to my side.

The last thing I saw as my head tilted back was Karai fleeing into the night.

_**R&amp;R!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'll try to keep this as interesting as I can!_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. If I did, I wouldn't be writing a fanfic about it._**

**_Chapter Seven: Yoshi's Side of the Story_**

**_Third Person POV_**

Hamato Yoshi led quite an interesting life. If you asked him about it, well, he would probably kick you out of his _secret _home. But, pretending he wouldn't do that, his answer would probably be 'You have no idea.'

After the death of his beloved Tang-Shen and daughter Miwa, his heart had been broken in half and seemingly unfixable. That all changed that one day at the pet shop, however, the day that changed his life forever for the better.

Right after purchasing the four infant turtles, he had bumped into a strange man on the street. Something seemed… off about him, and so Yoshi followed him to an alley where the man met with another man who seemed identical to him. Unfortunately, Yoshi stepped on a rat, got their attention, and in a mad fight for his life dropped the terrapins into a strange glowing goo, managing to get some on himself as well. They mutated, and Splinter named each of them and called himself, well, Splinter.

That would be the shortened version of the story, though that's as far as Splinter would go when explaining their origin story to a magical stranger who just randomly appeared in the Lair. If Raphael didn't kill them before the climax.

Sitting on a mat in his room, Splinter was deep in meditation. Something worried him, as he could sense something very strange in the astral plane. He could sense someone was in trouble. Sighing in frustration at his continued failure to glean more information, the large rat stood up and ran a quick check about their home.

Michelangelo's jovial humming resounded throughout the sewers, and it took the boy's father only moments to locate him, as usual, in the kitchen, brewing some new concoction consisting of random sludge and of course, pizza. A fond smile graced Splinter's features as he watched the youngest dance around the kitchen, pulling random things out of drawers in ridiculous places and adding them to the mix.

Michelangelo had always been the happy-go-lucky, creative one of the four. He much reminded Splinter of the sunshine just from how much happiness and love he could get from his older brothers. Sure, he had had a way to get on Raphael's bad side since they were just gurgling humanoid infants, pulling his toes and nibbling his arms, but at least Raph couldn't seem to stay mad.

His giant baby blue eyes, masked in orange, narrowed in concentration, said troublemaker carefully squeezed a single drop of some purplish liquid from a medicine dropper and into the ceramic bowl.

_Boom._

The bowl imploded; smoke wafting out the kitchen doorway in a mad escape attempt from the confines of the now-ruined room. Mikey spluttered and coughed, then smiled sheepishly at his father's raised brow.

"Uh… sorry, Master Splinter. I thought maybe Donnie wouldn't mind if I borrowed some 'soul-furry-ick ask-id'." He giggled at the funny name, and Yoshi just sighed. Yes, same old Michelangelo.

"Clean this up immediately, and then do twenty flips for stealing from your brother." He commanded, and the sea-green turtle flopped gracelessly to the floor in a last-ditch attempt to evade punishment. Not that it worked, but a kid can dream.

Exiting the kitchen area, the aged rat was quickly enveloped in the scent of honey and various herbs, his sharp nose picking up the underlying burning smell. Ah, Leonardo must be meditating again. He found his oldest son in the Lotus position, _hmm-ing _quietly to himself and trying to put out the scented candles with his mind.

Splinter had always been especially proud of Leonardo's ninjitsu and meditation. Not that he showed favoritism; Leo was just better fitted to it. Since they were very young, the leaf-green turtle always had a very balanced lifestyle. He spent much time caring for his younger siblings, but also was able to take lots of time to put his fighting skills to practice. No, the only imbalance this blue-clad hero was guilty of was the unending time spent worrying.

Moving swiftly and silently, Splinter left him be.

The man-rat's ears perked at the sound of someone hitting the punching bag, the repeated _thud_s indicating that his second oldest son was in a mood.

Raphael, as expected, was tirelessly beating the sack to a pulp, slick sweat covering every inch of his forest green skin. He back flipped away from his opponent, offering a perfect counter-strike and kicking the bag off the hook. Honestly, Splinter had no idea how their shells could bend so well and still be so thick.

Being the hothead of the group, this boy had his fair share of scars and bruises, his cuts and scratches being replaced on almost a daily basis. When the turtles were but a year old, Raph had picked up a fork, twirled it deftly, and impaled the punching bag with it, a maniacal grin adorning his features. That incident had been the inspiration for his weapon of choice, the sai. While still exhibiting aggressive behavior towards his brothers, anyone who knew him well enough could tell that he cared way more than he let on about them. He had his moments where he showed a rare, selfless and sensitive side of him, when he knew his family needed it the most. Yes, a complicated thing, Raphael.

Said son was now watching Splinter questioningly from across the dojo, his thick and muscular shoulders rising and falling rapidly in exhausted respiration. Splinter smiled, nodded, and continued on his way. Raphael shrugged, readjusted his red mask, and set to hang up a new punching bag.

The room belonging to his final son, Donatello, was a mess, with papers scattered about and unfinished inventions sitting, sometimes _running _around. However, the purple-clad turtle was nowhere to be seen. Splinter checked his bed, his desk, the bathroom, the living room, and still the second youngest remained unfound.

The only unchecked room was the lab, but Donnie surely would be in there, right? Although likely, the rat couldn't suppress the feelings of doubt. Knocking firmly on the closed steel door, he called out, "Donatello, are you here, my son?" But he received no answer.

Many times when they were younger, little Donnie would lock himself away in his room, trying to avoid his brothers and their roughhousing, so he could work on his experiments in private.

Donatello obviously closed this door for reason, to keep people out, but Splinter had this nagging feeling that he _needed _to find his son. Reluctantly pushing the door open, he peered inside; expecting to find the form of the brainiac slouched over the keyboard or pouring something into a beaker or testing something. But there was no one occupying this room, save for Timothy, who was dejectedly floating around in his glass prison.

Now Splinter worried.

Poor little Donatello was the pacifist of the group, always being picked on by everyone. Though Splinter knew deep down that Donatello was also probably the most deadly of his sons when he wanted to be. Never underestimate the quiet ones, he had once told his other sons after a particularly nasty fight which had ended with Raph cleaning up his own nosebleed and Donnie shepherding a fussing Mikey away.

Yes, always beware the quiet ones.

Although he had no doubt of Don's skills, he still worried for his safety. He always sent one of the other three with the olive-green turtle whenever he left the Lair, because they could help him defend himself. To be perfectly honest, Splinter worried over Donatello even more than he did Michelangelo, the baby of the family, just because of his deformed leg.

Even if his brothers didn't know or notice it, they still had to help him out a lot because of the leg. Afraid of teasing, Donnie had made his father swear to not tell his brothers about his leg, his mask, or his nails. The child was probably freaked out about his own body, and how different he really was.

And now, his weakest son was alone somewhere, obviously not in the Lair, and he had no idea what to do.

Worried 'parent thoughts' rushed through his head at light speed.

_What if he's not eating properly? What if he was spotted? What if he went near a bathroom? Is he still alive?_

No, he reassured himself. He could still sense his son alive, just… fading. Not great reassurance, but of some help.

Splinter, trying to calm himself, sat on a mat near the turnstiles, sinking into deep meditation once again and simultaneously listening for movement in the tunnels beyond. Best not tell the others right now, they would go running off to random places to search and then he would be clueless on _all _their locations.

Aside from the occasional scratching noises coming from the dank sewers, and the occasional flares of pain he sensed from his son, he gathered no further information. As time progressed, he only grew more worried for the missing teenager.

His thoughts soon found themselves focusing on his second-youngest son again, and memories of his difficult childhood resurfaced and made him shiver.

Schick. _The sound was subtle and would normally go unnoticed to someone without hypersensitive hearing, but to the mutant rat, it was totally obvious. He turned rapidly to face the noise's origin, amongst his two-year-old sons. They sat in a row, watching him expectantly to finish his lesson for today. _Schick._ Hmm, he thought to himself, how strange. That sounded like a weapon being sheathed. But, seeing no further disturbance, he continued on lecturing. He failed to notice that one of the little toddlers had distanced himself from his siblings, sitting farther behind them._

_"As I was saying, you must be swift and agile, like the mighty tiger-" He was interrupted again by a small _schick, _this time followed by_ _a whimper of panic, then another _schick _a few seconds later. He turned quickly to face them once again, but found only four confused sets of eyes staring up at him from the rug. Why is this occurring? He asked himself._

_"Right, well, anyways…" He said cautiously, but when the sound did not resurface, he turned away from them and continued talking._

_"Ninja play a giant role in today's history, though many people think of them only as myths or fun costume designs." He turned to face them again, making eye contact with each and every one of them until his mahogany eyes met scarlet ones. Which were up way higher than they should be._

_"Donatello," He scolded, and said toddler jumped at his name, "Why are you standing? You are being very rude." The child looked confusedly at him, and then at his wobbly legs, then plopped back down on his tail._

_"Please, just let me speak." Splinter sighed, exasperated; only to be startled a minute later by a glass shattering, haunting screech. Coming, of course, from an abnormally pointed beak._

_"Donatello! Go to your room!" He yelled, losing his temper._

_There was a soft pittering as tiny feet ran dejectedly away, sniffles making their way to his ears._

_Splinter wondered vaguely why his quietest son had acted out, that was very much unlike him. He always knew Donatello was different from his brothers, but not much from before they were mutated remained in his memory._

_Then he remembered something he had read about in a child psychology book he found a few weeks ago. He remembered thinking that little Donnie may have been autistic, because he matched quite a few of the traits. The book had said that autistic children, no matter how high functioning, sometimes use screams and grunts to communicate that something is wrong. Maybe the child was trying to tell him something?_

_He hurriedly dismissed the other three, who looked very lost, and ran to the genius's room. He stopped at the door, pressed his ear to it, and when he heard silent sobbing on the other side, pushed the heavy piece of metal open._

_A dark green carapiece met his eyes as the toddler was curled in on himself, facing away from his father. Large sobs wracked the tiny body that had always been way too skinny for Splinter's liking, and there were scratch marks running down the olive green arms, blood trickling down them._

_Gasping, he ran to Donatello's side, scooped him into his arms, and grabbed the lavender sheet from the nearby bed to wrap around the cuts. The child, however, struggled against him until he was dropped to the floor, and ran back to the corner._

_"Pease, I don' wanna hu't you!" He wailed, and covered his chubby face with his hands. Splinter just stared in shock._

_"My son, how could you hurt me? I know you won't. Now please, come to me and let's fix you up." He soothed. Donnie just shook his head, looked Splinter in the eyes, and his adopted father was struck by the bitterness and hurt in the tiny orbs._

_"No. 'serve it. Pease, I'm a monstewe! I'we hu't you and Mi'ey and Weo and Waphie and I'm a fweak!" He shouted up at Yoshi, who was in a stunned silence. Where had Donatello heard such awful things?_

_"My son, who told you these things? Was it Raphael again?" He asked urgently._

_Donnie shook his head insistently. "No Waphie! Imma fweak and diff'rent than oddewes and I'm… I'm… I can't…" The last two words came out in a heartbreaking whisper as a tear slid down his face, the bitterness left his eyes, only to be replaced by pure sadness and agony._

_"Oh, my son! You are no freak! You could never hurt anyone. Come, let me see you." He urged, slowly moving closer to his panicking son. Don's eyes widened and he backed as far as he could into the corner._

_"NO! PEASE! NO HU'T YOU! NO!" He wailed, and Splinter vaguely noticed the tiny forms in the doorway. He turned, shooed them away and turned back to the hyperventilating turtle._

_"PEASE! I LIKE A… A… THE T WORD!" He shrieked even louder, making the rat wince as his sensitive ears started hurting._

_"What T word? Tea? Turtle? Was it the T word I said earlier?" He asked gently. Donnie hesitated, and then nodded._

_"Tiger?" And then his words died in his throat as his son's hands and feet became six-inch claws. The child freaked out even more, trying to grip his own upper arms for comfort, but cutting himself again on the barbed nails._

_"SEE! IMMA MONTER! I HU'T PEOPLE! PEASE! GO 'WAY!" His son screamed, then passed out, as his breathing was way too much. His claws immediately retracted. Splinter wasted no time scooping up the damaged turtle and rushing to the bathroom and laying the reptilian infant in the warm bathwater. He hurriedly scrubbed at the arms until they were clean and blood-free. The child shivered slightly, then opened his giant eyes to stare in fear at his father. Said man's heart broke at the realization that this child really thought he was freak; no child should have to think that._

_"Why awent you kiwwing me? Imma monter!" He exclaimed, saddening his father ever further._

_"Listen, you are no monster. You are different, but that's okay. You are still my son, and I wouldn't give you up for the world. Do you understand.?" He demanded. Donnie thought, nodded slightly, though he still looked unconvinced._

_His father pulled him from the warm water and hugged him into his kimono. Donatello willingly snuggled deeply into it, cherishing the affection._

_"I sowwy fo' stan'in uhp daddy. I coodnt hewp it. I sowwy. Won' do it 'gain." He said into the soft fabric._

_"It is alright my little Donatello. I am sorry too, I should not have yelled at you. It is not your fault. Shh… Do you forgive me?" He questioned. The small terrapin looked up at him, a giant grin gracing his features as all faults were forgotten._

_"Of co'se, daddy! I foggive you!" He exclaimed cheerily, trying to lighten his father's mood, as Splinter knew he hated when others felt bad about something._

_Even though it would be difficult to raise Donatello, Splinter knew in the end it was all totally worth it._

_"Donatello? Why won't you take off your mask, son? You and your brothers are all taking one bath tonight instead of separately, to save water. Now come, take it off." He insisted of the four-year-old, who was holding his mask in place with a serious death grip so his knuckles turned pale._

_"NO! Daddy, they'll make fun of me!" He whispered into the pointed ear. His father sighed._

_"My son, why would they make fun of you? Remember what I always say?"_

_"um.. Stay away from public restrooms?" His son guessed, a confident smile on his face._

_"No, that being different is okay. You may be different, but that doesn't make you a freak, and that certainly doesn't give them a reason to mock you. Understand?" He asked. Donatello's red eyes wavered, then he looked away sheepishly to watch as Raphael dunked Leonardo under the soapy surface._

_"Daddy, Raphie will think I'm copying him! He's the only one allowed to wear red!" Donatello insisted. Splinter sighed once more and put a hand on the skinny olive shoulder._

_"'ey daddy? When awe you gonna wass ush? My 'ands awe getting awe p'oony!" Little Mikey asked innocently, completely oblivious to the hushed conversation going on between his immediate older brother and his father. His baby blue eyes widened with joy when his father sighed yet again and walked over to rub soap bubbles on his head._

_"Fank 'oo daddy!" Leo exclaimed, surfacing finally after five minutes, completely unscathed. Oh, the joys of adopting turtles as sons._

_"yah, fanks daddy! But why's 'onnie no comin in too?" Raph asked, and for the millionth time this year Splinter was struck at how advanced Donatello's speech had become, especially compared to his brothers._

_"Your brother is having some… privacy issues. Now, point your beak up." He replied, to which the forest green turtle complied. _

_Donnie, meanwhile, was showering himself under the broken pipe just outside the Lair's entrance, which just so happened to leak large amounts of clean-ish water. His extra-covering purple mask was hanging from a nail in the wall, cautiously close so he could grab it and put it back on at a moment's notice._

_There was a sickening thud as Mikey was sent sprawling from the mat on the dojo floor. His victor, Leo, immediately turned to face the two remaining brothers, who were watching each other very closely and carefully. Today was an 'every turtle for himself' day._

_"Come on guys, can't we do this one at a time?" Donnie asked nervously, his three-fingered hand gripping his naginata furiously. Leo just shook his head and chuckled, and then charged the bull that was his brother, Raphael. There was a flash of red as Raph avoided being tackled to the ground, and he fit in a hard blow to Leo's shell, throwing him into the wall to land right next to Mikey._

_Splinter watched his seven-year-olds from his mat in front of the tree, and watched closely to see how Raphael versus Donatello could possibly play out. His bets were secretly on Raphael, because he knew Donatello was not as into fighting as the former. Though he had no doubts the younger son would have something up his sleeve to give Raph a run for his money._

_Holding his staff defensively in front of him, Donatello waited until his older brother charged at him, Sais blazing. Then he jumped out of the way, landed on his bigger sibling's shell, and leaped into the air, pushing his brother down in the process._

_Raph stood up, brushing himself off, and then regained his fighting position._

_"Alright, Donnie. Lucky shot. Try again and I'll bet a million bucks you'll miss, cause I'm like a shark, fierce and awesome." He taunted, his young voice squeaking a little bit in quite an adorable fashion._

_Donnie, however, wasn't listening. At the word 'shark', his staff dropped to the ground, his head drooped to the side, and his pupils dilated. His finger twitching slightly was the only movement from the young terrapin._

_Raph, for one, was totally weirded out._

_"Ah, Donnie? Bro? You alright?" He asked, not moving from his offensive stance._

_Splinter stood and worriedly went to Donatello's side, putting a hand on his shoulder, which proved to be a big mistake._

_Before he could hold back his pacifistic son, the boy dropped to a pre-running position and ran on all fours at his brother, who was freaking the heck out and trying to avoid his little brother's amazingly sharp beak as he opened and shut his jaws. Several times he almost clamped down on Raph's legs._

_Finally having enough, Raphael hit him in the head, hard enough to send him flying into the tree's massive trunk._

_Donnie, still technically 'in', stood; rubbing his bruised head and holding his hands up in surrender. But, to no avail. Raphael started hitting, kicking, and punching his little brother, who just _would not go down._ Donnie eventually started a defensive kata to fend off the giant turtle._

_But during the last move that would have brought Raph down, Donnie's leg came up short._

_Raph took advantage of his brother's 'cowardice' and beat him to the ground. Raphael had won._

_Splinter watched as Leo had to pull Raph away from his battered little sibling whilst Mikey helped said sibling off the floor and allowed him to lean on his shoulder, although Donnie's slight height difference did nothing to help as he towered over his baby brother._

_Splinter was quite ashamed of Raphael for going so far when they were both only seven years old, but said nothing._

_"Aw come on, Donnie! You're weak! You coulda' finished me, butcha were too scared, little baby! And now what? Lettin Mikey rock you to sleep, like a little baby? What a wimp! Mastah Splintah, can't I at least have an opponent who's _worth _something in a fight?" He taunted harshly, bringing tears to the younger's eyes. _It's not my fault, _he thought to himself, but the tears just kept coming._

_"Raphael! Apologize to your brother immediately!" Splinter snapped. Raph winced, but never backed down._

_"I'm sorry, Donnie… That you're such a loser! What's this? TEARS? You really are a crybaby! Can't you do anything right in a fight? Can't you even kick something?" He burst into cruel laughter. Donnie, not able to keep it in any longer, cried out in pained sorrow. With a wail, he broke free of Mikey's grasp and limp-ran to his room, slamming the door behind him._

_"Wow," Raph commented afterwards, "Can't even take simple teasing." This statement earned him fierce glares from everyone else in the room. Splinter commanded him to do 100 flips and to clean the entire Lair as punishment._

_Rushing to the brainiac's room, he knocked on the door hurriedly, not expecting an answer and therefore surprised when he got one._

_"Leave me alone, Raph. I've had enough, can't you see that?" He snapped from inside his sanctuary. Splinter sat silently, trying to decide whether or not to talk to his son right now as he was obviously suffering._

_A small whimpering voice full of desperate pleading brought his attention to the door, pressing his ear against it to hear better._

_"Please, Tang Shen. I know you're a nice lady, Father says so. Please, just take away my suffering. Make me normal, at least in my own _family_. I'm so tired of being afraid of my own brother. Take away my ugly leg, my ugly red mask, my ugly nails. Or take me somewhere where a freak like me is accepted. At least send me strength to make it through each day, to put up with the taunting, the teasing, and the bullying. Please, answer my one wish. The only wish I have…. Please…" Donatello's voice cracked in that last word, and he dissolved into a sobbing mess. From outside the door, Splinter had tears running down his face, unable to stand his child's pain. _How could I have let it go so far? _He asked himself, feeling ashamed._

_Unable to stand it anymore, Splinter burst through the door and ran to his young son's side, scooped him up in his arms and hugged him close, whispering apologies in his ear._

_"My son, please do not think in such a way! You are a beautiful child! Do not listen to your brother's taunting! I implore you!" He begged. Donnie just shook his head against his father's chest._

_"I don't know anymore!" He cried, and his small frame wracked with sobs. Splinter held him even tighter, enveloping him in warmth._

_"Donatello, look at me." He said, his voice firm. The child raised his tearstained face to meet his father's eyes. Splinter gazed firmly into their scarlet depths; he had always loved Donnie's eyes._

_"You are the most amazing child. You are wonderful and sweet and I would never, ever, give you up, for anything ever! Even if you don't believe me, just trust me, okay? Do you trust me?" And to his relief, the purple-masked kame nodded. He planted a kiss on the little forehead._

_"Daddy?" His eyes shot to meet his son's knowing something bad was coming. Donatello never called him 'daddy' anymore unless he was really upset._

_"Yes?"_

_"… Did I do something wrong?"_

No matter how many times he had assured Donatello that his brother was to blame, he still had never fully believed him. Heck, even a heartfelt apology from Raph himself couldn't bring him out of his self-hatred. It was that day that his brothers learned of his frailty. They still may not know of his physical frailty, but at least they knew to leave him alone.

And now, that delicate child of his was lost somewhere, in pain, and he could do absolutely nothing about it, just like the many times in Donatello's childhood.

'Oh, Donatello,' He thought, a tear running down his aged face, 'where are you, my son?'

His plea was not met with a response.

And then.

"… Help…"

**_A/N: Sorry if Donnie's history isn't completely the same as others say it should be. I still like my version though, so there's not much regret here. R&amp;R!_**


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Special thanks to Lydja-chan, Leofan, DemonYodaVoice, and E. Ashley Bunnymund for the awesome reviews! Your encouragement means a lot to me!**_

_**Disclaimer: Hmmm… lemme check…. Nope, still not mine!**_

_**Chapter Eight: And Now, A Word From Our Donnie**_

_**Donnie's POV**_

I have no idea what is with this dude. First, he knows my name, and then he knows all about me. Next he'll be telling me about my past like the stalker he seems to be.

Although I guess I believe him about being _The _David. He sure fits the bill.

Anyways, here I am, with a long-lost family member I just met two hours ago, trapped in an alleyway with no way to descend into the sewers. Yeah, just great.

I had limped my way over to his side after his 'finish' command (yeah, my stress-limp was fully functional) and had checked his vitals. He was okay, but unconscious and probably concussed. I had to get us back to the Lair, to my family. They could help.

My bum leg was aching like crazy, my head swam, and my shell probably had new cracks now. I slapped Davey's face lightly to wake him up, but aside from his eyelids revealing milky white cracks, he remained unresponsive. In my foggy mind, I knew I _had _to hurry and save him, or he could have some serious damage. I would never let that happen to Master.

Wait, what did I just say? _WHAT DID I JUST SAY?_

I grabbed the rope from my belt and awkwardly pulled him up onto my shell, wincing as his sneaker pressed against my scarry left side. While trying to tie the ropes around him to keep him steady, I nicked my hand on a piece of scrap metal from the nearby dumpster, hissed, and pulled the injured appendage to me. I stared at my bluish blood, fascinated and in a sort of trance.

_Daddy, where does this come from?_

Why had I reacted so strangely to David's commands?

_My son, it comes from your heart. It belongs in your body, so leave it there._

I got this feeling of remembrance as I slipped into the trance and followed my orders.

_But if it's 'sposed to stay inside, why do my own nails bring it out? It's so… pretty._

Why was this happening to me?

I finally managed to tie a decent knot in the musty rope, tying the unconscious man tightly to my body. Trying to stand up, my leg gave out a few times, and I fell down multiple other times just trying to gain my balance. He was just so heavy! Mind you, this dude was like twice my age almost.

After a few times and scraped knees, I weakly made it to my wobbly feet and limped my way to the manhole cover, preparing myself for the long drop below. 'Honestly Raph, prepare for your demise', I thought evilly to myself, bringing slight comfort at the humor.

Sliding until my foot wrappings brushed slightly on the first rung of the metal ladder, I awkwardly wrapped my arm around David's back and jumped the rest of the way down. I fell to the damp sewer floor with a loud _thunk_, my left leg giving out and my right ankle snapping at an unnatural angle. I clamped my beak tightly shut to contain the scream of pain making its slimy way up my trachea. The large human was jarred from my back, and he landed right next to me, facedown in the rotten sludge. Slowly, I crawled over to him and flipped him over, checked his breathing and pulse before relaxing for a moment leaned up against him. Oh, my head hurt.

I could barely see. My muddled thoughts finally caught on to this fact as I felt my lids basically paralyzed at half-mast. My right eye had lost all vision altogether. Whatever I had left to see was inevitably turning black as said color blurred the edges of my small field of vision.

David groaned beside me and flopped lifelessly to his other side, curled in on himself as if fighting off invisible demons. Dude, seriously? _You're _having issues?

Sighing and trying to stand, I was brought to my sore, knobby knees as both legs proved impossible to walk on.

I had always been trained to stay calm in such situations, because panic equals death in Master Splinter's book. He spent most of our childhood drilling such lessons into our heads.

Staying as calm as I possibly could in such a situation, I lay on my plastron next to him. My arm painfully made its way around the human's prone form and rolled him onto my shell, the pressure crushing my lungs and popping a few ribs right out of place. This time, I moaned in utter pain.

_Daddy, why does Raphie punch me so much? I think he broke my rib!_

I hadn't felt such pain since when I was younger, and my leg wound had apparently been fresher.

_Your brother is… complicated, my son. It is no fault of yours; he just takes out his emotions on others. He has trouble controlling it._

Grunting, I determinedly army-crawled forward through the disgusting so-called water. David's arm flopped down by my face, his knuckles brushing my beak and nose. The feeling sent jitters down my spine, yet brought out a feeling of familiarity and comfort. Master.

_Trouble? You mean like I have trouble controlling my t-… My T-I-G-E-R claws? Yeah, I guess I'm not the only bad one in this family, right? Though at least Raphie can't kill anyone like I can. I'm the worst freakazoid. Father? Why are you hiding your face? Are you scared of me? Did I do something wrong?_

The rough concrete scratched mercilessly at my already sensitive plastron, the plates losing giant flakes of keratin. Yeesh, that would leave a mark.

Rats scurried away from their gourmet apple cores as I slowly made my way past their homes. 'Almost there', I encouraged myself, 'Just a little longer'. A few exerted hisses passed through my pointed beak, and I jerked my head sideways to get my mask tails out of my face.

About a mile from the Lair, my legs and arms had all but given up on my cause, and I collapsed into a miserable heap in the smack middle of the tunnel. I just couldn't go on. My broken ankle throbbed viciously, my plastron stung, my chest burned, my bad leg spasmed, my head felt split in half, and my eyes were strained and sore.

Without my naginata, my phone, or anyone to help bear my burden, I knew we wouldn't make it much longer.

I dropped David from my back and lay him gently on a tiny semi-dry patch to my left. He groaned in complaint and tried to roll over, but only submerged himself further in the sewage. I grabbed his arm and positioned myself the best I could, and then yanked him as hard as possible. His face became submerged.

Panicking, I jerked over and over again in a frantic seizing motion, desperately trying to free him and prevent drowning or brain damage. I could hear the strange popping noises as bubbles made their way to the surface and his hair sank beneath the water.

Giving an all-or-nothing final tug, yanking my shoulder out of its socket, there was a spluttering gasp as his lungs sucked in oxygen greedily, his hair dripping down onto his soiled shirt.

"D-Da…" I gasped out through my clenched teeth as my pain married and had babies. The black dominating the edges of my blurred vision stretched to cover over half of my eyesight. This was getting bad, and fast.

My best friend flopped gracelessly next to me, safely away from stray streams of sewage, but still unconscious and possibly concussed. Plus, I had no idea if he had brain damage from lack of oxygen.  
Pressing my cheek against the cold concrete, I sighed as the temperature soothed my sore eyelids.

_Oh, Donatello. Where are you, my son?_

Father? Help! I need you! Where are you?

Turning my head in frantic circles only to find the perimeter clear of any visitors, a tear slipped down my cheek. Man, I was hallucinating.

But then I felt something familiar and gentle inside my being. Kind of like, when you make something you're really proud of and you just feel this kind of fuzziness bubbling up right under your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat from the effects. There was love, and kindness, and safety. Someone I knew and loved was loaning me his or her strength through the astral plane. Too old to be Leo and too serious to be Raph or Mikey, I knew it was my Master.

This warm fuzzy feeling gave me the encouragement I needed to try again.

"H…" I tried, but my voice died in my sore throat. I shifted to straighten out my diaphragm.

"H-H-Hel-" I gasped as the pain throughout my body became overwhelming.

"…Help…" was the last thing I could manage to call as my eyelids finally drooped, and the merciful darkness overtook me once more.

_**A/N: Shortie! R&amp;R, everyone!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Hope this is going well so far!**_

_**Disclaimer: Yay! Santa came early and… he still hasn't given them to me. Darn.**_

_**Chapter Nine: A Helping Hand**_

_**Raph's POV**_

_Thud. _I smirked happily as I rained blow after blow on the leather punching bag. This bag had always been there for me, so to speak. When my brothers get on my nerves? Bag it. My father scolds me again? Punch away. Memories of Spike giving me nightmares? Prepare the target.

Leo had beaten me for once in training. I hated losing, so I had to go and punch him in the face when father wasn't looking, though it turns out he sees everything. So of coarse Splinter Junior started chewing me out while Splinter Senior punished me in ways that Leo can't. Just another day in paradise.

The dull thud of leather against scales brought my mind to the present, and I finished the bag off with a simple backflip kick. My shell pressed slightly against my neck as I flipped, but it hardly bothered me.

Suddenly sensing someone else nearby, I turned to find Sensei watching me silently, a worried expression evident on his features. I watched him warily, worried myself. He noticed my staring, nodded, and walked down the hall. Shrugging, I adjusted my mask and hung up a new bag, since the old one was spewing its sandy innards all over the mats.

But then I realized I wasn't angry anymore, as if Master Splinter's very presence could calm my tempered nerves, although it had never happened before.

I left the dojo cautiously; only feeling safe once it was obvious Leo was done yelling at me for the day.

The heavy scent of smoke reached my nose, and I crinkled my beak in disgust. Blech, Mikey must have been 'cooking' again. Honestly, that kid was worse than Donnie sometimes when it came to creating things. I wouldn't have been very surprised if a living blob of pizza goop _walked_ past me right then. Creeped out, but not surprised.

Speaking of Donnie earlier, where was the brainiac? I hadn't seen him since he asked me to go with him … to the… junkyard… _Crap!_

"Donnie! Where ya at, doofus?" I called, trying to mask the panic I felt. It failed miserably and came out as a worried squeak.

There was no response from the brother I wanted, but the extra two came running to me. I was in no short supply of siblings.

"What's wrong, Raphie?" Mikey joked. I could feel my temper bubbling up inside me, but I bit it down. For now.

"Ah, Donnie probably left the Lair to go to April's house or somethin'. You know, the stalker that he is." I lied. I knew exactly where he was, but Splinter would kill me if he found out that I had let Donnie go to the junkyard alone. It had always been a rule that Donnie never leaves the Lair alone.

"Well, is anyone _with _him?" Fearless demanded. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously at me.

"I may have… _yelledathimwhenheaskedandsenthimbyhimself._" I muttered, lowering my gaze to the floor, suddenly very fascinated with my stubby toes. I could feel the anger and panic rolling off of my only older sibling.

"You sent him BY HIMSELF?!" He shrieked in a whisper so not to alert Sensei.

"Look Fearless, he's a big boy. He may be a crappy, worthless fighter, and kind of a baby, but… What was I saying again?" I had honestly forgotten where I was going with this. I don't know why I was trying to convince Leo that Donnie was okay by himself, when we all knew perfectly well that he was screwed.

"Okay, let's… Tell Master Splinter! He'll know what to do!" Leo insisted, turning to run to Splinter's private room.

I grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face me.

"Dude! Do you _want_ to live another day? He'll kill us! Just keep it to ourselves for now. If Donnie isn't back in an hour, then we'll tell father. Okay?" Leo huffed, but Mikey nodded with wide eyes.

I walked calmly to the pit and slouched on the ratty sofa. I hoped the nerd was okay. Sure, I may be a jerk to him, but he does mean a lot to me. He's my little brother, and I'd die before I'd let anyone touch him. Ever since we were little it had been drilled into our heads that Donnie was fragile; always needed protection. I had always been rather jealous of his special treatment, though I guess I'm glad no one goes easy on me.

The kid never takes his mask off, especially around us. Whenever he takes it off at night, if you knock on his door, you can just barely see his silhouette rushing to put it back on before coming to answer. He always refrains from touching us with his fingers, but has no problem with open-palmed pats and touches. He also hates being touched on any limbs. When we were toddlers, I remember thinking he didn't like anyone touching him anywhere, but then one night I had gone to Splinter's room after a nightmare and had seen our master rubbing circles on Donnie's neck, and the kid obviously loved it. That's the only kind of touching I've ever seen him fully comfortable with. He never initiates touches or hugs either, not even with April, although that might just be shyness. And I'm pretty sure his shell is different from ours, although that techno-crap covers it mostly. He always hated fighting, and is probably the weakest fighter on the team, which I suppose is the reason why Splinter hates him being outside the Lair without a chaperone. And his reaction to the word 'shark' ever since that fateful training session has been to whimper in fear and run to his lab, not to come out for hours.

What I've always found especially weird and quite worrying is that he never eats right. Before we were allowed on the surface, all we ever ate was algae and worms. Mikey would make dishes out of it, trying to make it fun, but Donnie would always eat the minimal amount then go and throw it up ten minutes later. I think he's bulimic or anorexic or whatever it's called, because Mikey, Leo and I all loved algae and worms, or at least put up with it, all our lives. But ever since we were little, Donnie always threw up whatever tiny amount of food he ate. I've even sent Mikey to talk to Master Splinter about it, but his response is always the same: Your brother just has different tastes. It's like he doesn't notice how impossibly skinny he is! I mean, he's not even skin and bones! He's overworked-muscle and bones. Thankfully, nowadays we have access to better foods that he _will _eat, via April and Casey. He's still dangerously skinny, though.

And his eyes aren't normal. I know, I know, I shouldn't be the one talking, since I have acid eyes, but I'm serious! They're way too red, with very little brown in them. They actually almost seem to change shades depending on how he feels. I've put together a little chart in my mind to help me gauge his moods, and it looks something like this:

Cherry Red= Happy, proud, normal day

Maroon= Sad, slightly angry, angsty

Scarlet= Embarrassed, confused, curious, scared

Faded Red= Tired, depressed, hurt or lonely

Blood Red= Excited, thrilled, adrenaline-rush, having fun

Light Brown= Mellow, calm, forgiving, loving

Dark Brown= Hateful, grumpy, without coffee

Dark Red= Frustrated, exasperated

Satanic Red= Pretty Pissed, mischievous

Possessed-Baby-Doll-Red= RUN!

Never, ever have I seen something so scary as Donatello with Possessed-Baby-Doll-Red eyes. It either means he's having a mad-scientist moment, or he's really, REALLY pissed. Either way, scary. The only way to tell those two emotions apart is that when he's pissed, you only get a glimpse of his eye color before his third lid 'activates', so to speak.

My thoughts turned to last night, to when I had been making my usual rounds right before bed; just checking to make sure each brother was okay.

)))))))

Mikey was sprawled on top of his blankets, muttering about pizza and aliens in his sleep. I had smiled and covered him with his blanket before moving on to Fearless' room. Leo was quietly dozing, tucked securely into his blankets with his katanas hanging on their hooks above his head. Then last but not least, Donnie's room.

It had been two hours since I had forced him to stop working on a retro-mutagen for a while and shepherded him to his bed. When I peeked in, he was lying under a single thin sheet, still as the dead. I approached the bunk bed silently to avoid waking him up, and climbed the ladder and sat on the end of his bed. I had to admit, I was worried. Donnie had always slept rather actively, as in he moved around and muttered a bit. Now, he was so lifeless and pale, the only movement being his chest slightly rising and falling, in short, shallow breaths.

I crawled closer to his head and felt his brow for a fever, not finding any but covering my hand in cold sweat. Donnie flinched away from my touch, which worried me further. Moving to remove his mask, I was immediately stopped by a fearful shout from my sleeping little brother.

"NO! STOP! PLEASE!" He cried, thrashing his head from side to side wildly. I withdrew my hand in defeat, and took one of his hands in mine. He stiffened, but remained asleep.

"Donnie, hey, it's me, bro. Calm down. I'm right here." I soothed, hoping with all my might that no one else could hear me. That would be so embarrassing, and I would never live it down!

Donnie relaxed his stiff muscles slightly, and I took a chance.

"Donnie, why are you afraid of me?" I asked gently. He rolled his head to face away from me.

"Mon… ter…" He sighed out in his sleep. I recoiled in offense.

"Bro, I'm no monster. I'd never hurt you. Is that why you hate being touched?" I asked him.

"No Raphie… me… mon'ter… hu't…" He garbled, and I found myself further confused. How could harmless little Donnie see himself as a monster? His hand turned limp in my grasp, his bony wrist digging into my skin. His breathing evened out until I knew he was in REM sleep.

Sighing, I moved to get to the floor, shuffling the sheets slightly as I made my way down. I'd talk to him about it later.

Donnie's arms suddenly shot up, flailing wildly and hitting everything nearby. He fought off invisible demons and screamed.

I ran and closed the soundproof door, then jumped up next to my brother and pinned his arms down.

"NO! MASTER! HELP ME! MASTER!" He wailed, a tear making its way down his face.

I knew what he was going through now. We all went through these episodes occasionally, where we would be screaming for someone called 'Master', but not referring to Master Splinter. It would be a beautiful girl with black hair, named something like Becky or Becca. With her came almost instinctual feelings of love and food and happiness, which we deeply loved. We felt intense panic as the girl faded away, then would wake up crying for unknown reasons.

"MASTER PLEASE! SAVE ME! MASTER!" He screamed again. Remembering what Splinter had done years ago; I sat him up against me and rubbed circles on his really long neck. He relaxed at my touch, and slumped.

And then he rubbed his beak against my arm.

Normally I would have been annoyed and pushed him off, but the gesture was so sweet, I just couldn't find it in me to push him away.

And that was when I noticed how strangely sharp his beak was, and how it could easily break through skin and maybe even bone. And yet, here he was, gentle as could be. Ah, good old Donnie.

"Master… Don't you want me?" He whimpered pitifully, and I felt my heart snap. He always had this effect on everyone, and I understood why now.

"David! Come back! Please…" It was coming out as pained whispers now, and more tears streamed down his olive face.

Who was this David? Why did he refer to David as Master, and not Becca? This was not the same as what the three of us had. And he seemed to be in a lot more pain.

"Donnie, this is Raph. Please, calm down. I'm _right_ here, I _do_ want you, and I'm _not going anywhere_." I promised his sleeping form.

"…Raph?" He asked, his eyes fluttering open to reveal his third eyelid was active.

"Yeah, bud, it's me." I reassured him.

"Raph, what did I do wrong?" He asked, using his *apparently* favorite question, since he asked it quite often. Although this time, the pain in his voice was much more intense.

"Aw, Donnie! There's nothing wrong with you! Who told you that?" I demanded. He just blinked and forced his lid down with a slight wince.

His eyes were a bright scarlet, and swimming with tears.

I hugged him closer and rubbed his head. He leaned his forehead against my shoulder and wrapped a thin arm around my shell, clinging desperately to me. He seemed really scared. His techno-shell thingy pressed slightly into my arm, but it thankfully didn't hurt.

"Raphie?" He asked hesitantly, and I ignored the annoying use of my old nickname.

"Yeah?"

"Will you please stay with me? I just don't want to-to b-be a-a-alone" He burst into fresh tears and held me tighter, and my heart shattered.

"Sure, Donnie. But tell anyone else about this and you're dead meat." I threatened playfully. He nodded and gratefully settled into my plastron, asleep in moments, tears still sitting on his cheeks.

I wiped them off and hugged him protectively closer.

)))))))

My poor, weak little brother, all alone out there because I was too thickheaded to help him. I felt a pang of guilt deep in my chest as an image of Donnie, lying sprawled in some alley, covered in his own blood and gasping for breath, his normally bright eyes glassy and unseeing, made its way to my brain. That was one of my worst nightmares.

'Please, please let him be okay!' I thought desperately as the minutes ticked by with no sign of him.

I could hear Mikey sitting behind me, nervously picking at the loose threads on the couch. Leo was pacing in the dojo.

"My sons! You must assist your brother immediately!" Came Splinter's shouting voice as he ran into the room, startling us out of our thoughts. We were all at his side in moments.

"Where is he?" I demanded, my mind racing through worst-case scenarios.

"I heard him call for help from the tunnels by the entrance." Master Splinter said hurriedly, pointing at the turnstiles.

That was all we needed, and now we were off, into the sewers beyond.

)))))))))

"Donnie!"

"Yo Donnie!"

"Donatello!"

Our cries echoed throughout the wet tunnels, not being met with a response as we had feared, but expected. So far there were no signs of life. Our large feet squelched through the sludge and decay, and our eyes could just barely make out where we were going.

"Spread out." Leo commanded, and for once I decided not to argue. I went down a small tunnel to the right, the one leading to the nearest manhole, Leo went straight forward towards the drainage junction, and Mikey went left, towards an abandoned subway station.

"Donnie?" I whispered, not wanting to disturb any human's attention nearby. This was a dangerous place to be, since anyone could climb down the manhole at any time. So far, I could only see a rat, a few cockroaches- that I am totally _not _afraid of- and lots of trash.

And then I saw a strange bundle ahead, the shape that could only be one thing. Or, turtle, I should say.

"Donnie! Donnie wake up bro!" I exclaimed, running and dropping to his side, flipping him over to face me. His hissed in pain, but otherwise remained unresponsive. His arm was wrapped around another large bundle.

"Guys! I found him! Get ovah he'e!" I yelled behind me, and seconds later my two brothers flanked my sides.

"Come on, let's get him to Splinter." Leo said. I picked him easily, since he was so light, but his arm was wrapped firmly around the large bundle, and it took Mikey and me both pulling to separate them.

Mikey examined the bundle, and then looked at me worriedly.

"It's a human." He said plainly. I did a double take.

"A HUMAN? What's it doing down here? What's it doing with Donnie?" I demanded, accidentally shaking the unconscious turtle in my arms so that he moaned in pain. His eyes opened momentarily, faded red by the looks of it, and he looked me right in the eyes.

"He comes w-with u-us, R-Raphie." He stated. Before I had time to argue, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp. I panicked.

"Alright, Leo pick him up, Mikey, help guide us back. Donnie's really hurt, guys!" I said, and Mikey immediately ran ahead and explained where everything was. As we ran as fast as we could, Leo awkwardly cradling the unconscious human, I prayed to whoever was up there to please spare my brother. I could feel something warm dripping down his body and smearing on my plastron, and I feared that I knew what it was.

I almost cried in relief at the sight of the turnstiles, and almost tackled my father to the ground when I saw him waiting. Thank goodness, now Donnie would be okay.

I lay my brother gently on the larger couch, while Leo placed our guest in the reclining chair. Of course, as soon as that was done, our guest was basically forgotten as everybody, Splinter included, crowded around Donnie.

In the light, I could now see the extent of his injuries.

His skin was way too pale; that was the first thing I noticed. There was a large gash on his forehead that bled all the way down his face, his right ankle was bent completely sideways, his left leg was bent in a slightly abnormal position, his right eye was full of sludge and dust, his plastron was scraped like a nail file had been used on it, and there were at least three circular marks on his collarbone. There was another long bloody gash on his right leg.

"Raphael, get some warm water and lots of towels." Splinter instructed, and I did as I was told. He cleaned the cuts and bandaged his broken ankle, but when I asked why he didn't bandage the other one too, he just sighed and said it was fine.

"There. Your brother will be unconscious for a while, but he should be fine. Leonardo, lay him in his bed so we may deal with this one." He said, gesturing to the human passed out in our chair. Leo nodded and quickly- but gently- carried Donnie's limp form away.

I walked up to the sleeping man, slapped his face, and then pinned him down when he jerked awake. Despite the large bump on his head, he appeared concussion-free.

"Who are you and what do you want with my brother?!" I demanded, and his blue eyes widened considerably.

"I-I-" he blubbered, and I slapped him again.

"I'm his friend, Davey!" He finally exclaimed. I froze.

"Davey? His friend Davey? Like, short for David?" I asked reluctantly.

He nodded quickly, and I growled and got off of him. He sat up slowly and stared at Splinter in- was that fascination? No fear? What the heck?

"Are you- are you Echo's master?" David asked. I snorted. Who did he think he was talking about? Oh, wait. That's Donnie's codename. Crap.

Splinter, oddly trusting, nodded with a small smile.

"Yes, I am Splinter, or you may call me by my human name, Yoshi." He said. My jaw was on the floor. How could he trust a complete stranger like that?

"Wait, like _Hamato _Yoshi?" He asked eagerly. Splinter nodded, a confused expression on his face.

"Sensei, why are you telling him this stuff? He could be a spy!" I yelled, thoroughly confused.

"My son, he has no harmful intentions. He is not our foe. I can sense it deep inside of him." He assured me, and David gave him a funny look. Splinter turned back to him, only to have David walk right up to him.

"Are you really Hamato Yoshi?" He demanded, suddenly desperate.

"Yes, I am he." David looked totally surprised.

"I-I sold them to you." He stated quietly. Splinter's ears perked in shock, and then his eyes filled with remembrance.

"You are David Breckham, correct?" He asked, and the man nodded excitedly, a grin growing on his face.

"You cared for them at the pet shop. I remember you now!" He said, and his ears fell in sadness.

"I am deeply sorry, David. I broke my promise to you. I cannot imagine how that must have hurt you." He apologized. I just sat on the sofa and watched in awe. Leo had returned moments ago, and he too was watching curiously.

"I know it wasn't your fault, Mr. Hamato. Echo already told me your story. I found him fighting on my roof and I saved him from being poisoned." He explained, and my head shot up at the word 'poison'.

"WAS HE OKAY?" Leo demanded. Davey nodded in response with a reassuring grin. We all visibly relaxed. Mikey inched closer to the man, trying to be subtle and failing.

"I'm just so relieved that you've been taking care of them properly! I had lived for 16 years not knowing how they were!"

"Yes, although as you had predicted, the fourth one was a bit of a challenge. Nothing I couldn't handle, however." Father replied cryptically. Davey smiled fondly.

He looked towards the rest of us, actually noticing us for the first time. He turned back to Sensei.

"May I?" He asked, and the rat nodded.

He approached me first, completely popping my personal space bubble and poking me and seemingly examining me very intensely. I gave my father an uncomfortable look, but he signaled for me to stand down.

The man noted the crack in my plastron, my eyes, and apparently my skin color and then turned to Splinter once more.

"Dragon." He said, pointing to me over his shoulder. Splinter nodded and chuckled. What the heck was going on here!

Moving on to Mikey, he stared into his eyes, felt his arm scales, and measured the size of his head, doing the math inside of his own.

"Apollo." Another word, another nod and chuckle.

Last was Leo, who visibly stiffened as the strange man brushed his fingers against his shell, poked his nose, and stared into his eyes as well.

"Captain." He said with finality. How did he guess our codenames so easily? He turned to Master Splinter, his eyes full of childlike hope.

"I haven't really had the opportunity to see Echo yet. May I go to him? I do know the best caring techniques, too!" I almost gasped when our father allowed him to see our brother. He pointed the man in the right direction, and we all stood and watched as he stood hesitantly in the doorway before going in and closing the door ¾ of the way. I whirled on Sensei.

"What the heck was _that_, Father? Letting a stranger wander around our home?" I raged. He shook his head at me.

"Raphael, he is no stranger. He is an old friend, and he has been waiting a very long time to see your brother. He means no harm. Come, look." He led us to the doorway and we watched silently in shock.

David sat behind Donnie on the bottom mattress, having sat him up against him much like I did last night. He was rubbing soothing circles on his neck and rubbing his head gently. Donnie tilted his head back and rubbed his beak against the man's cheek, then fell more comfortably asleep. Behind me, Mikey snickered quietly, only to be silenced moments later by a whack on the head, courtesy of Splinter's cane.

As we watched, the human slipped off our brother's mask, and something about his posture communicated fondness. Too bad it was dark in there; I was really curious about what Donnie hid behind his mask.

Said turtle tried to roll a bit into a more comfortable position, but stopped short and sucked in a pained gasp. His left leg quivered and bent wildly, and he started kicking it and trying to straighten it out, to no avail. He let out another moan of pain, this time louder.

Instinctually drawn to help my pained sibling, it took everything I had to stay back, like Splinter was silently warning me.

Davey was at Don's side in moments, examining something and shaking his head. It took a lot of his weight to keep the flailing limb in place, and then he pressed his finger into a muscle, and the leg fell limp. How does this creep know all this stuff that I didn't even know?

David carefully and slowly peeled the wrappings from our brother's leg and threw them off to the side, momentarily forgotten. As soon as the rough cloth was undone, though, Donnie's leg immediately bent strangely and he seemed to hold it closer to his body, as if the wrappings were a cast that had kept the unruly limb straight. It didn't make sense, though! Donnie's legs were normal. Although, I thought suspiciously, his wrappings did go up higher than ours, going all the way up to where his legs and shell connected.

The human held the large foot up and stretched his leg outwards and upwards, and our brother sighed in relief. David then pushed it backwards, towards his shell to force the leg to bend. Strangely enough, it didn't. His leg bent sideways slightly and then stuck that way, like it was a resting position for it.

Leo and I turned and gave Splinter questioning looks, while Mikey continued to stare at the dark silhouettes. Splinter shook his head and motioned for us to follow as he walked towards the dojo. Sparing one last backward glance only to see darkness, we followed.

Knelt on the floor in a row in front of our Sensei, the missing member who should have been sitting between Mikey and me. Master Splinter stood before us and cleared his throat.

"My sons, there are some things I think it is time to tell you." He said thoughtfully. I gulped.

_**A/N: What could it be? What does Splinter have to say? How will Donnie feel when he finds out? Why am I asking you all these questions?**_

_**I'd like to give an extra-special thank-you to Lydja-chan! Your many reviews and buttloads of advice have given me lots of confidence and great ideas! I very much appreciate when people like you take the time to stop and tell me what I'm doing wrong and I what I should continue doing, to help make the story more enjoyable in the future! Thanks again, Lydja!**_

_**Please follow this model fanfictioner's example and R&amp;R!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Alrighty… here goes. This is going to be the most difficult part by far!**_

_**Disclaimer: Dude, why do you even care? What'll you do, sue me? ... Don't answer that…**_

_**Chapter Ten: The Great Reveal… Sort of.**_

_**Raph's POV**_

Master Splinter stroked his beard slowly as he paced in front of us, his long toenails making small scratching noises on the wooden floors. Our stomachs churned with anticipation so thick, you could cut it with a knife. What was going on? Were we finally getting answers to all the questions we harbored? We looked amongst each other, our eyes wide with fear and anxiety, our breathing coming out in short, quick gasps. Finally, Splinter came out of his thoughts and cleared his throat, catching our attention and turning our heads to face him, our eyes were glued to his face.

"My sons, you must understand that what I am about to tell you is secret, and you must never tell your brother that you know. I had sworn to him long ago never to tell you, but you mustn't be kept in the dark any longer. Swear on your honor that you will never tell Donatello." He said clearly with a no-nonsense face on. We all nodded.

"Hai, Sensei." We chorused. He sighed and dropped his shoulders a tiny bit.

"I suppose it is best to start from the beginning. It had been mere months since I had lost my beloved Tang Shen and Miwa, and moved to New York. I was lonely, and needed something else in my life. So, I went to a pet shop downtown. There were large posters advertising baby turtles for sale, and for a very good price." He made eye contact with each and every one of us, his gaze faltering slightly as it fell on Donnie's empty spot.

"I entered, and there at the counter was a little boy, aged maybe 8 years old. He was petting a baby turtle, one of the four for sale. He gave me each of you in turn; the first one, because of safety reasons, was a dark green acid-eyed turtle who was named Dragon, because he protected you three so passionately." I felt my cheeks heat as all eyes were suddenly on me. I gave Master Splinter an uncomfortable look and shrugged my shoulders, and he chuckled. "This turtle was surprisingly calm towards me.

"Next was a more docile, leafy-colored turtle with misty blue eyes, named Captain because of his self-appointed role as leader. He was very cautious when I tried petting him, but could not deny his own feelings of trust for very long." Leo was the next center of attention, and he seemed to shrink into his shell a little. I was tempted to laugh at The Fearless One's shyness, but recognized the action as inappropriate to the situation, most likely earning me a whack upside the head.

"The last one handed to me was a very energetic turtle with freckles and baby blue eyes, who took an instant liking to me and my hair. His name was Apollo, after the Greek god Phoebus Apollo, because he was like the sunshine of his brothers' lives." Mikey basked in the attention he got at his own description like a true bonehead. Leo looked at Splinter in concern, as he seemed to realize something.

"Sensei, what about Donnie?" He asked cautiously. Splinter held up a long-fingered hand to stop him from talking further.

"I was getting to that, Leonardo. After you all had been put in your new tank, I had noticed a very distressed turtle- not unlike yourselves- on the young child's shoulder, almost tearing his shirt off as he tried to reach you three. You were communicating through clicking signals and hisses. I inquired about this, and the boy explained how only three were for sale." At our thoroughly confused looks, he paused, but did not elaborate quite as we had expected.

"The boy burst into tears, explaining to me how the fourth turtle brother was to be humanely euthanized because of an injury sustained to his left back leg." Leo's eyes had widened to the size of the pizzas sitting on the dining room table.

"… No…" He finally gasped out, sounding like he hoped beyond hope that he was wrong about whatever connection he had made in his head. I looked to our Master's face, hopeful. He shook his head sadly and continued.

"Yes, a young girl had crushed his leg when he was trying to save his baby brother, of whom he was severely protective. They had done what they could to bandage it up, but the leg healed incorrectly, causing it to be completely disfigured. He could not walk, extend the leg, or do anything normally. Since the owner was sure that the turtle wouldn't be sold because of his injury, he had scheduled him to be put down. The boy was absolutely heartbroken about it, as he was extremely close to this particular turtle, which was intelligent beyond his years and able to understand him. Moved by his plight, I bought the turtle myself and promised the child to give his best friend a wonderful life with his brothers.

He spent a long time explaining the care of you boys, but when it came to Donatello, the list became extensively long, because he was very much different from you three." My jaw was slack as I took in this overflow of information, not quite processing it. Donnie's leg was… what?

"Now, I believe it is time I explained his other… differences. You four share the same mother, but Donatello had a different biological father. You three are purebred red-eared sliders, whilst your brother is an incredibly rare genetic mutant, called the speckled red-eared slider. He has longer legs than you boys, a longer neck, sharper nails, and a sharper beak. But, being the rare breed he is, he also has some very strange physical properties." He explained, not looking at our shocked faces but instead at the intricate designs of the painting on the wall.

"He was always especially ashamed of his leg, feeling weak amongst you, but the next on that list was his red mask." My eye ridges shot up in surprise. Mikey's eyes roamed my mask, as if studying it hard enough would make it change to purple and then surprise! Our masks had always been switched around, April fools!

"No, Michelangelo, not a fabric mask. He has a splotchy collection of red scales around his eyes, resembling a ninja's mask. That is a trademark for the breed.

Another difference is his shell. It is octagonal while yours are pentagonal.

The last thing he has always kept secret is his nails. While they may seem shorter than your own, do not be fooled. The breed is known to be able to shoot them out to full length at will, the length being about twelve inches fully grown. Donatello, however, was trained by his young master to only extend them when the command word, tiger, is used. While he may have forgotten the whole thing, these commands are now a subconscious instinct for him." He said with finality. We all gaped at our father speechlessly; not knowing what to do with this new knowledge.

I finally gathered my scattered thoughts enough to voice a question I had no idea I had.

"Is his breed the reason why his eyes are so weird?" This inquiry earned me a few blue-eyed glares, but the pair of amber eyes looked on me with the patience of a good parent.

"Actually, yes. Leonardo, Michelangelo, do not be angered by the question, as it does in fact hold relevance. Yes, in Donatello's breed, red eyes are the signifying mark of a male." Donnie's… _breed._ That would take some getting used to.

"Master, umm, is this why Donnie never eats our food?" Mikey asked, as of course his mind would always wander back to food. Splinter chuckled humorlessly.

"Yes, shortly after our mutation, I completely forgot about his specialized diet that consisted mostly of fruits and meats. The effect of algae and worms on him is similar to that of a dog eating dairy." Mikey 'oh'ed in understanding.

At that moment, I would have given anything for Mikey to make one of his usual jokes, pull a prank, do something incredibly stupid, _anything_! I just needed something to break this horrible tenseness in the air around us, choking us as it forced itself down our throats and into our guts, making them roll around in discomfort. This was just too sudden to be real. Surely none of this was true? One look at Fearless' face dashed my hopes immediately. He was as shocked as I was! How could Donnie have kept this from us, his _brothers_, our whole freaking lives?

A strange emotion, foreign to me, nestled in the pit of my stomach. It was the ugly spawn of anger, sadness, guilt, pity, and… sentiment? No, that's not the right word for it. This feeling was too strong to have the label 'sentiment' just slapped on it and then be shoved into a hidden drawer in the deep depths of my mind. This feeling was too important, and I actually kind of liked it. Liked the way it warmed my insides like the sun on my scales, or a warm fire and a mug of hot cocoa. I liked the way it made my heart seem to swell and the amazing feeling running through my veins. This emotion was nameless, for how could it be named? Nothing seemed to fit; 'love' hardly gave it any merit. Suddenly, the emotion settled deep in my stomach didn't seem so ugly anymore. I couldn't keep myself from smiling just barely, though small enough to hide it from the other occupants of the room.

Sorry, I got a little too poetic there. Geez, I'm turning into Donnie!

"My sons, as I have said repeatedly, do not tell your brother about the things you have learned here today. Do not treat him any differently, although Raphael; I would appreciate it if you refrained from mocking your little brother." He looked pointedly at me, and I felt heat rising in my cheeks. I turned my face away and mumbled 'yeah, whatever.'

"Good. Now, you are dismissed." He announced, and turned silently towards his room. Once his door slid shut, we jumped up and ran to the pit. I jumped into the air and landed effortlessly on the red fabric of the couch, in a carefully picked position from which I could keep an eye on Donnie's room. Mikey landed next to me with a glass of Pepsi in hand, though he seemed to forget it as soon as he set it down on the coffee table, a serious look on his face and the childish glee missing from his eyes. Leo stood in front of us, pacing in front of the TV. His anxiety was making me anxious. We all shared a look that silently communicated the one thing that was on everyone's mind.

What now?

_**Violet: Aaandd… cut! That's a wrap! Thanks Raph, you can go now.**_

_**Raph: Thank shell, these chairs are riding on my-**_

_**Violet: Woah woah woah! Ever heard of TMI?**_

_**Mikey: Totally Macho Infection?**_

_**Raph: ***__**slaps him upside the head**__*** Can it, Mikey.**_

_**Leo: Raph, leave him alone.**_

_**Raph: Shut it, Fearless.**_

_**Donnie: Umm, guys? Kind of a bad time for this. Groundbreaking news, remember?**_

_**Violet: Guys, come on!**_

_**Raph: Watcha gonna do about it, Dorkatello? ***__**slaps Mikey upside the head**__*****_

_**Donnie: THAT'S IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE! Hey Violet, a little help please?**_

_**Violet: Sure, Donnie. But only because Raph needs to be put in his place. Tiger!**_

_**Donnie: ***__**Claws shoot out**__*** Thank you, dearest. RAPH, COME HERE!**_

_**Raph: Gulp. ***__**Gets chased by wolverine-turtle**__*** Violet, HELP ME!**_

_**Violet: Go Donnie go! Go Donnie go!**_

_**Mikey: Oh well, I guess it's my turn to say it: R-**_

_**Leo: Read and review!**_

_**Mikey: Hey! It was MY turn!**_

_**Leo: Well, now it's mine.**_

_**Mikey: Why you little- ***__**wrestling match**__*****_

_**Violet: Read and review before they all kill each other! -Go Donnie!- Anyways, stay tuned till next time! Ciao!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Here we are! I'm so thrilled that my story has gone this far! Living the dream!**_

_**Before we begin, I feel I should clarify something real quick, as I read a very interesting comment from Lydja-chan. They pointed out that it probably wasn't the best move for Splinter to demand that Donnie's brothers keep him uninformed of their knowledge of his secrets. Lydja pointed out how it could cause further problems and misunderstandings later on.**_

_**I totally agree, although I wrote it like that for a reason, as I will explain further: While Splinter may seem like the perfect, most moral person, he's still human, in every sense of the word. Except, of course, appearance-wise, but you get my point. While it was probably the right thing to do, telling the others, it's still technically breaking his word to Donnie. He knows as much and feels extremely guilty about it, and doesn't want his son to see him in a less-flattering light. He's afraid Donnie will see it as the ultimate betrayal, and he doesn't want to lose him for it. He wants his son to see him as his only outlet, his only one to go to, and selfish as that is, Splinter's a parent, and every parent wants their child to know they can trust them, and no-one else. He's only human. Second on the list as to why not to tell him, Donnie's already in enough pain, and he doesn't need more stress added to it if he feels that his brothers think of him as a burden, which has always been his greatest fear. He's always accepted the name 'weakest fighter', never tried to beat the others in that area, because even though he could, that would raise their standards for him; standards he's afraid he wouldn't be able to meet because of his abnormalities and weaknesses. Basically, he's terrified of the day when they'll be depending on him, and he'll fail them. Irrational as that fear is (I mean, come on, this is DONNIE we're talking about), Splinter would love to keep the stress from his son, let Donnie think that that day is no closer to arriving.**_

_**I hope that sheds some light on the situation, though if there's something you still don't understand, I'd be more than happy to answer your questions! (Sorry if this explanation doesn't make sense; I did try my hardest)**_

_**Anyways, now that that's done, on with the show!**_

_**Disclaimer: I only own an arm here and a leg over there. Be it a disfigured leg, it's still **_**mine!**

_**Chapter 11: And Then There Were… Still 5. What? Did You Think This Was Some Kind of Horror Story?**_

_**Davey's POV**_

As I lay hunched over on the springy mattress, the top bunk pressing uncomfortably against my skull and the meager light of the nearby computer monitor casting shadows over the room, I could not keep the feelings of affection from welling up inside me as I observed Echo in his sleep. He was so peaceful, the worry lines that normally creased his brow were all but invisible, the usually tense muscles in his every appendage relaxed. His breathing was deep and even, save for the occasional cough as his lungs expelled excess sewage.

Twice. He had save my life twice now. This teen had a serious knack for risking his own life for the good of others, and it made me fairly frustrated. How could I ever repay him for all he had done for me? His brothers, I'm sure, would have left me to die in the sewers if he hadn't used his last bit of strength to tell them otherwise.

The harsh sound of his hacking coughs broke my chain of thought, and I quickly grabbed a nearby trashbin and held it to his chest as another glob of sludge escaped his pointed beak. Being the sympathetic person I was, my own lungs decided then to take after my terrapin friend, and I could just barely hold in the water that forced its way out of my lungs.

He lay gently against me, which I found odd, since earlier he had weighed almost two hundred pounds. Then it hit me.

Even in his sleep, he was trying to support as much of his own weight as he could, to avoid hurting me. Geez, this guy had some serious self-trust issues.

I would have none of that, he would _not _be using up his energy- energy supposed to be used for healing- to help me. I pressed a finger into the muscles lining the edge of his carapiece, and he instantly relaxed into me, going fully limp. I smiled as he murmured 'msster' in his sleep.

Feeling eyes on me and knowing exactly who it was, I didn't turn to face Echo's family, pretending I was completely unaware of their presence so not to provoke them somehow. I heard whispering and gasps, but I just pulled Echo's mask off and hung it on the desk next to me, relying on the darkness to keep them from seeing the red splotches. I couldn't help but smile at how much like my Echo he looked, curled into my lap, nothing covering his beautiful scales, totally relaxed around me.

I rubbed my special soothing circles into his long neck, and the slight vibration in his chest told me he really, _really _enjoyed that. He leaned his round head back and rubbed his beak against my cheek, and tears came to my eyes at the familiar- and very much loved- expression. Oh, buddy! How I've missed you! He dropped his scaly beak and settled into a more comfortable position as I heard snickering behind me, then a whacking sound and a muffled, 'OW!' I smiled.

The others have grown up so much! Dragon still had the same acid-green eyes, though now they had almost a glowing look to them and they now shone with human intelligence. Still fiercely protective of his brothers, still grumpy and temperamental, still a bully to Apollo and still antagonistic towards Captain and I, it's a wonder how I didn't recognize him from miles away! He had donned a red mask, thinner than Echo's, but thicker than Captain's. His plastron was a darker yellow, still bearing the lighting-bolt crack, and a brown belt was tied around his waist, a pair of sai on each side. His relaxed position was apparently resting his hands on the handles of said weapons and occasionally caressing them, as if wishing more than anything to use them on something. Although, with my luck, that 'something' would probably be me.

Captain was completely different around each brother than I had thought. Instead of being a bossy control freak (although according to Echo, he could be) he was more relaxed around them instead of watching their every move, doing his own thing instead of insisting on doing theirs with them. Same ocean eyes further highlighted by the darker shade of his cerulean mask, same light yellow plastron, same flat head, and same leafy-green complexion. He bore a lighter brown belt similar to Dragon's, though with one also crossed over his shoulder, holding a sheath to his shell carrying twin katanas. He watched me almost as warily as Dragon, although with less violence brooding behind his eyes.

Apollo was pretty easily the same, with a chubby sea-green face splotched in adorable freckles, made even more adorable by his giant turquoise eyes. His belt remained solely on his waist, carrying two nunchuku, though he hardly even noticed they were there. He was still fairly trusting and naïve, and always knew how to bring a smile to anyone's face. It was like a superpower with him! He was a few inches shorter than me, though he was obviously a teenager, even with the adorable face. His plastron had pizza stains all over it, and his shell was covered in ink from comic books, as though his bed was covered in them and he hadn't bothered to move them. Good 'ole Apollo.

Echo, of course, I have explained previously, though in his home, amongst his family, even his unconscious personality changed. His olive face seemed to brighten with color, his red eyes- which I had to pry open several times to check pupil response- were dilated most of the time, his shoulders relaxed, and his heart rate slowed. He was totally relaxed around them, even when he was unaware of events around him. He just had this sense that he was with them, that he was safe, and he seemed to have no doubts in that giant brain at all. He was almost entrancing to watch, just his subconscious behavior amongst his home, the familiarity just rolling off of him, the undoubting trust behind those scarlet orbs.

He rolled to the left instinctually, trying to curl in on himself, but it seems his subconscious didn't get the message that that particular leg was _damaged _or maybe, I don't know, _painful_. Maybe it was my presence that did that, made him regress to his mental state and memories of when he was with me, before that little bi- witch had crushed his leg. I totally meant witch. Either way, he only made it halfway before freezing in place as the pain shot up his nervous system. He hissed and cried out slightly at the pain, thrashing his bad leg around and trying to straighten it out, hoping for some relief as his current mindset returned to him.

Carefully setting his sweat-covered head on the mattress, I ran to the end of the bed to check on his leg, maybe try and help relieve the pain. I did have experience with this, after all I was the one who cared for him while he was still having leg pains, and I still remembered several ways to calm the fried nerves.

I could feel the anxiety of the other turtles as they were instinctually drawn to help their clutch mate, held back only by their father apparently and probably to see if I would do anything. I was just glad they didn't seem to be blaming me for his pain in the first place!

Grabbing hold of the giant flailing limb, I pressed it down on the mattress, using all my strength to do so but just barely keeping it still. I was getting whiplash as his spasmodic kicking jerked my head up and down along with it.

Finally having enough, I pressed my finger into the largest muscle in the leg, and it instantly fell limp against me.

Ignoring the growth of my original headache (I had been ignoring it as I sat with Echo), I carefully unwrapped the extensive leg wrappings, going all the way up to where his leg meets the bridge of his shell. Even I know that normal wrappings aren't that long. As I peeled the rough fabric away from the leg, said limb started bending abnormally(for normal turtles) but normally to me. After all, this was the way I was used to seeing the leg. It bent sideways and curled in, toward the protection of his body. I grabbed his leg by the bottom of the very large foot, and carefully stretched it out in a straight line. He sighed in relief, although I could tell it was still hurting him. His muscles had adapted to his leg deformity, so in all technicality, his leg isn't supposed to bend that way. I knew it was good for him, and the pain it would save him later outweighed whatever discomfort he was experiencing now.

After holding his leg in this position for a good minute, I pushed up, towards his body again in hopes of bending it the correct way. No such luck.

It bent sideways and up, so it curled into his side instead of his stomach. His leg twitched and jerked, instinctually wanting to be let go of. After thirty seconds, I complied and let his leg rest once again against the mattress. He remained asleep, even as we heard his family walk away, the oldest two obviously confused by their gait. Apollo just followed along, glancing back every few seconds with wide eyes until he was out of sight.

"Mmmm…" Came a raspy croak from the mattress behind me. I whipped to face Echo, who was propped up on his elbows, one hand rubbing the back of his head and both eyes struggling to open.

"Hey, Echo, buddy, it's me… How're you feeling?" I asked gently, lightly laying my palm on his shoulder. He flinched slightly at my touch, but then his eyes widened and he stopped moving.

"Master? It's you, right? David?" He asked, his right eye twitching shut.

"Yeah, it's me. How are you?" I repeated, and he shrugged slightly whilst trying to sit up. I put a helping hand on his shell and pushed until he was upright, a large hand on my shoulder. His head lolled dazedly as the movement caused mild disorientation.

"Davey? Whr's ever'bdy?" He slurred. I thought he was falling asleep, but his one open eye was alert and trying to focus.

"Hey, Echo, what's wrong?" I inquired, and his good eye focused on me momentarily, before rolling back in his head.

"Echo? ECHO!" I exclaimed, shaking his shoulders gently. His head flopped lifelessly and an agonized hiss made its way out of his mouth, shortly followed by a rather large quantity of vomit, which sprayed everywhere. I thankfully managed to dodge the stream and grab his shoulders, but when I did, he screamed in pain and started spasming, trying to escape my grasp.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" I screamed, and seconds later I was yanked away from the turtle's body and thrown into the wall opposite. Captain and Dragon both grabbed Echo by the arms, gently but firmly, but he kept thrashing, if not even harder than before.

"Donnie! Calm down! Agh!" Dragon shouted as he was hit in the beak by a flying right foot. I rushed forward to help, but Apollo shoved past me and took my place instead.

Echo, now being held down by three of his brothers, finally stopped thrashing and went absolutely limp. They exchanged panicked glances and let go of him.

Moments later, his arms and legs and neck started jerking without pattern or any conscious deliberance. Froth bubbled out of his mouth and cascaded down his face. His brothers looked around with a frustrated cluelessness, hating themselves for having no idea what to do.

"Guys! He's having a seizure!" I exclaimed, snapping them out of it. They looked at me expectantly.

"Fine, since I'm the only one with any medical experience, I'll deal with this. But I need your full cooperation. If you're not helping, stay back!" I bark decisively. I point to Dragon.

"You keep track of how long it lasts." I command, and he nods, too worried about his ill brother to argue.

"Captain, er, Leo, you get a pillow under his head. Mikey, clear the space around him so he can't hurt himself. Everybody, AVOID TOUCHING HIM." Each turtle is quick to do his assigned job flawlessly, and soon Echo is lying on a pillow in a small clearing in the middle of the concrete room. The froth had stopped flowing a while ago, and his jerks were becoming more and more lethargic, until he'd slumped against the hard floor and stopped. Now that the seizure was over, everyone was quick to move in.

"Raph, run a hot bath. As hot as you guys can stand." I snapped, noticing how pale and cold Echo had become. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin. Dragon nodded, his face pale, and ran to the bathroom. Captain knelt beside me, pressing a hand to his brother's brow, which I just realized was missing a purple mask.

Unfortunately, such a fact did not escape his brothers' notice.

Momentarily forgetting his brother's fevered brow, Captain's fingers gently pressed on Echo's blood red scales, gasping slightly as his fingers made contact. He felt the scales in an almost reverent- yet confused- manner, and a sad smile made its way to his face.

"I-It was true. All of it." He whispered, his fingers still brushing against the red mask. Apollo snuck closer and watched the scene with eyes wider than should be possible, and he too crawled forward and laid his hand over his brother's mask; the secrets he had kept for so long, finally revealed to his brothers. If only he were awake to see their reactions; the awe-struck, sad kindness that radiated from every pore, maybe he would see that he's not a freak.

He had told me that his brothers never knew, but apparently Yoshi decided to tell them.

Dragon ran back in, shattering the moment, and exclaimed, "Guys, bath's ready! Help me carry him!" The other two nodded and picked up their shivering sibling, carefully carrying him across the Lair and into the small bathroom. The floor was concrete like every other room in their home, the walls had grungy blue tiles plastered on, and the small bathtub had long ago needed a good scrubbing.

They lifted him up and over the edge of the tub and lay him inside, the warm water reaching his neck and his head resting against the cushioned inner edge. He shivered slightly but soon sighed comfortably and relaxed his strained muscles.

Captain backed away and stood behind the group, Dragon hopped up on the counter, and Apollo sat on the toilet seat. Seeing this as an invitation, I stepped forward and knelt down next to the tub, getting the knees of my jeans wet but not caring in the slightest. I took a handful of water and splashed it on the top of his head, making sure not to get any on his face. He barely moved, although he twitched slightly as the bandages covering his ankle and head soaked through and fell off. The gashes were cleaner now, though still red and irritated by the hot water. His eyes were clenched shut, and his left leg was still unconsciously held close to his body.

"Okay, what the HECK was that about?" Dragon demanded, startling everyone in the tiny room. I shrugged, honestly having no idea where the seizure had come from, or why he now had a fever. Echo was getting sicker, maybe even dying, right in front of me, and I had no idea what was wrong.

"I'm not sure, but we need to hurry and figure this out before he gets any worse." This earned me more worried glances than thoughtful ones. I clapped my hands insistently and they all jumped, hurrying to voice their observations.

"He could have some type of illness.." Captain offered. I shook my head.

"No, he would have been sick beforehand, but he was perfectly healthy before and after the poisoning incident."

"Oh, come on guys! Donnie made us all take his little health classes, remember? He has an _infection_." Dragon stated. I nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, that would explain everything but the seizure. And where is the infection? It would be in a cut, I assume." Captain stepped forward and leaned next to me, and we searched the turtle's body up and down, looking for any infected-looking cuts. We found none. Yoshi had done a meticulous job of cleaning every cut, scrape, or bruise, even. Captain returned to his spot, a frustrated scowl scrunching up his leafy green face. I turned back to Echo's unresponsive body, carefully pulled his bad leg from its resting position, and lifted it to pour water over it, maybe soothe the strained muscles.

A startled gasp stopped me in my tracks, and I quickly turned to look at Echo's face, while his brothers all jumped up and rushed to stand right behind me, breathing down my neck. We watched in anticipation as the olive green turtle's eyes shot open and then scrunched closed again in the span of two seconds, just barely giving us a glance at his eyes before he went limp again, sinking a little deeper into the bathwater until it reached his chin. I heard disappointed sighs behind me as they returned to their places, brooding, thinking that nothing productive had come out of it.

But, thank the Lord, they were wrong.

While his eyes had been open, I had gotten a brief glimpse of red. Not normal red, though, but more like 'infected', red, in his right eye. His entire eye was blood red, barely any white or black visible. This was good; now we knew where the infection was. He must have gotten sewer gunk in it during our little spelunking adventure.

"Guys!" I exclaimed excitedly, and they all stared at me expectantly.

"His eye! That's where the infection is!" I explained. I turned back to Echo and carefully peeled back the red eyelid.

Puss, bloody goop, and microscopic debris filled it, and his lids had swollen with infection. The whites of his eyes were dyed red, and when the bathroom light shined into it, his pupil remained constricted. All in all, disgusting.

"Mikey, go get me a clean washcloth." I ordered, and one was placed in my hand a moment later. I wet it, wrung it out, and wiped first the outside of his eye, then dropped water inside with the help of Dragon and Captain, who held the delicate lids open. Pebbles and trash rolled out the corner of his eye, running down his face and joining the pinkish water below. We sighed in relief.

I turned to face them again, but they were busy staring at his left leg, which was now stretched out as the water relaxed the muscles. It bent slightly to the left, then slightly to the right at the ankle. Their eyes shone with that same sadness as before, and even Dragon couldn't hide the look of sympathy gracing his features.

"Okay, if we keep an eye on that, the infection should be cleared up by next week. But that still leaves the seizure. Any possible causes?" I felt like this was an episode of House, M.D.

Dragon scratched his chin in deep thought and raised his finger like he had thought of something, but then closed his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest again.

"Alright, let's see… the whole thing started when he had woken up." I began, listing what we knew. "He seemed out of it, like almost drugged. I helped him sit up, and he had his left eye open, because his right eye kept twitching shut. We know now that that was caused by the infection. He managed to focus his good eye for a few seconds, but then it rolled back in his head and he started vomiting. That could also be from the infection, I suppose, or it could have been something he swallowed in the sewers, or it could be something else. I grabbed him and tried to calm him down, but he only freaked out more and started screaming and flailing. You guys came in and grabbed his arms, which set him off again, and then when you all restrained him, he went limp. Moments later, the seizure started, which lasted for-" I looked to Dragon, who looked towards the left, trying to remember.

"Two minutes and twenty-three seconds." He filled in the blank at last. I nodded.

"Right. So, any ideas?" Apollo got up from his seat, strangely silent, and walked to the tub, reaching past us and wrapping his hand around Echo's right arm, not moving the limb.

"Yo David, where'd you grab him to calm him down the first time?" He asked me. I thought back to the moment, that very second seared into my mind forever. It almost physically hurt to think about, just the image of my best friend flailing and screaming in pain, vomiting endlessly and crying out for a comfort that was not there. I couldn't help the shudder that made its way down my spine, covering each limb with goosebumps and making my teeth clench.

"His arms. He was about to fall on his face so I grabbed him by the upper arms." His eye ridge shot up, and an expression of 'really, you haven't figured it out yet?' settled on his face. Dragon hit him upside the head when he didn't say anything, leaving us in suspense. Apollo turned, glared at him, then gave an annoyed grunt and- never taking his eyes off of his immediate older brother- ever so slightly lifted the arm he still held.

A pained scream echoed throughout the Lair, and we had to cover our ears to avoid damage, since speckled red-eared sliders were known for their incredibly high-pitched squeals and shrieks. Apollo hurriedly dropped the appendage as if it were burning, and looked at Dragon with a smug grin as the screaming stopped.

Now Captain was stepping forward, examining Echo's right arm up and down with his ocean blue eyes, finally coming to a halt at the shoulder. He pointed at it, and I turned to fully see what he saw.

"Guys, look at his shoulder." He said rather simply. And he was right. I had no idea how I hadn't noticed it before! It was completely out of socket, sticking forward in a painfully awkward position.

"Yes! That would explain the seizure! The pain caused him to vomit, and when I grabbed his arm, it hurt him further. Then you guys tried to hold his arms down, which must have overloaded his system with pain, causing him to seize. And now that we know the problem, we can fix it and avoid future seizures! Ap-Mikey, you're a genius!" I praised, earning myself a few strange looks.

"Mikey actually… did something smart." Dragon muttered in amazement. Apollo scowled at him and splashed some pink bathwater up onto him. His brother spluttered and waved his arms, then chased a giggling Apollo out into the main room. A crash could be heard, an 'oops', and more laughter. I turned to the only remaining, conscious turtle brother. He rolled his eyes, but continued to watch Echo worriedly. I put a reluctant hand on his shoulder, which he surprisingly didn't cut off with his katana.

"We need Splinter's help to get his arm back in place as soon as possible." I informed him, and he nodded. Wordlessly, we lifted the comatose turtle out of the tub and carried him back to his bed, covering him in towels and blankets as he shivered pitifully. I stayed at his side while Captain ran out the door, returning minutes later with his Master in tow.

"Leonardo says you need my assistance. What can I do to help?" He asked, his eyes widening in parental worry.

"Can you help pop his shoulder into its socket?" I asked, and he nodded solemnly.

Captain and I took our places behind Echo's octagonal shell, each holding him up- by holding onto his bridges, of course- while Yoshi put his clawed hands gently on the shoulder, and he counted to three.

"One… Two… THREE!" And with that, he pushed with all his might until a loud and painful _pop _could be heard, and we all winced as Echo writhed a few moments, then settled against us. Some wrappings were secured around his shoulder, bum leg, and right eye, and his head wound and broken ankle were re-bandaged. Captain and I carefully laid the techno-turtle down against the mattress, tucked him securely under four blankets, and ended up adding a pillow under his left side when his techno-shell made him lay unevenly. Captain pulled up a chair and sat down for first watch, as we all wanted to make sure he was okay. I wanted to argue and insist that I could stay with Echo, but held my tongue.

This was his _brother,_ his little brother whom he had taken responsibility of long ago. His brother who, for almost seven hours, had gone missing, come back half-dead with a strange human in tow, and just had a seizure. I was sure he would like a little time with him.

Besides, I was pooped.

So I nodded and left the room behind Yoshi, who led me down a small hallway and into a small, meagerly furnished guest room. We both stopped in the doorway, and I was about to say goodnight when a hand on my shoulder shut me up and caused me to turn and face him fully.

"I would like to thank you for all that you have done for my sons." He said, genuine gratitude shining in his brown eyes. I smiled.

"Mister Hamato, it has been a privilege to see them again, and I would do anything for them. Really, I would. It was no trouble, and I'm glad to help my friend." He nodded and smiled, then motioned for me to get some sleep. I smiled gratefully and flopped on the soft bed, not even bothering to get under the covers as I fell asleep, Yoshi closing the door as he left.

For some reason, my dreams were full of only one thing, over and over and over, soaked through with it and oozing it, as though I had woken up in some weird universe. That one thing made it impossible to tell if I was experiencing a dream or a nightmare, because it made no sense to me and remained completely constant, like thoughts going through an OCD mind.

_Redredredredredredredredredredredredred…._

_**This was a LONG one, took me FOREVER to finish, so sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed! Until next time!**_

_**R&amp;R!**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thanks to Lydja-chan once again, your comments definitely help me know what the audience is looking for! Everyone else who reviewed, THANK YOU TOO!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't not don't own TMNT… I am willing to give a million ***__**monopoly**__*** dollars to anyone who can figure that out… Ugh, my head!**_

_**Chapter Twelve: The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth… With a Few Exceptions…**_

_**Third Person POV**_

"_Daddy? Da'id? Mastewe? Whewe awe you?" A squeaky, timid little voice called into the darkness of the sewers. Its owner, a chubby infant, sat on his tail on a small dry patch, huddled in front of his three brothers. The turtle had tears streaking down his innocent olive face, and his plastron heaved as he sobbed quietly._

_All any of them remembered was pain as a glowing goop was splashed on them. They had awoken, doubled in size, in a damp alleyway in the middle of the night, not a person in sight. They had, in a panic, dropped rather gracelessly into a nearby manhole, the youngest fracturing both ankles, the oldest hitting his head and knocking himself unconscious (later awakening too weak to stand), and the second oldest breaking his arm. This left the second youngest the only one able to function properly- despite his bad leg, which was hurting terribly- and therefore in protection of his siblings, who were sleeping in a large pile to preserve warmth. The olive turtle, who also happened to be the only one able to talk, was desperately trying to get help._

_The fall had happened two days ago, and Echo was wondering if his master- one of the few things he remembered- had abandoned him._

"_Mastewe? Pwease, save ush!" He called out again, his adorable red eyes squinting shut as more tears fell down his face. He had never felt so helpless, so alone, so scared._

"_Pwease…" He whimpered, curling in on himself awkwardly, his left leg sticking out. He prepared himself for more nightmare-ish sleep, only to hear a muffled splashing as footsteps approached. He jumped up, his bad leg giving out a few times before he finally figured out how to put his weight on his new right leg, since he had two arms now instead. He shakily stood on his round, long legs and got into a defensive position, silently willing his claws to extend, so he at least had a chance to protect his brothers. They complied slightly, growing maybe a centimeter in length._

"_Stay back, I'm wawnin' you!" He growled out, searching frantically for whatever was coming. The splashes stopped a few inches away, and then a deep, accented voice responded to his cries._

"_Hush, young one. Are you lost? I will not harm you." It reassured, and although he still kept his defenses up, Echo inwardly sighed in relief._

"_My bwodewes, dey got hu't an' I can't find my faddewe. He 'banded ush!" He sobbed, slumping down on his tail with a _plunk,_ forgetting momentarily that this stranger could be a threat. The footsteps approached slowly, until a clawed foot came into the child's view and he looked up hesitantly, this time outwardly sighing in relief upon seeing the mutant rat._

"_Awe you a mootant too?" He asked, not at all fearful, to the rat's great surprise. Why would this boy not be afraid of him? He still had not gotten a proper look at the babies._

"_Yes, call me Splinter. Why do you ask if I am a mutant 'too?'" He asked, thoroughly confused._

"_Cant you shee ush? Me? Imma fweak. Idon' look like my bwoddewes. Don' be scawed, cuz I won' hurt nobody o' purpse. Kay?" The young voice asked seriously. Yoshi agreed warmly. The child stepped into a lighter spot in front of him, and when Splinter gasped at his appearance, not in fear but in shock and recognition, the turtle flinched and backed away._

"_I sowwy. Go 'head and 'banddin us too." He apologized sincerely. The rat stooped down to his level and placed a gentle hand on his green shoulder._

"_My child, I am your father. Remember? I did not abandon you, I just did not think that you had mutated too. Come, I will care for your brothers." He soothed. The turtle shot his head up and growled as the long-fingered hands scooped up Apollo, the sleeping turtle mumbling slightly. Yoshi held up one hand reassuringly until the growls died down, but then the turtle tot charged at him, demanding he put his brother down._

"_Don' hu't him! Pwease! Take me 'stead!" He cried desperately. Splinter's heart throbbed and he decided to compromise._

"_Listen, young one. I will carry your older brothers, and you can carry this one on your back and follow, okay?" He asked calmly, and Echo stopped attacking and thought hard. Finding no other options, and knowing this was probably best for his brothers, he nodded solemnly and accepted his burden, lovingly rubbing his cheek against his little brother's head as it lay against his shoulder._

_Splinter carried the older two turtles carefully and led the way back to his makeshift nest, the young slider not two (limping) steps behind. _

_)))))))))))_

Donatello groaned as he regained consciousness, memories flowing at light-speed through his pained head. Acting upon instinct, he tried opening his eyes, but only having the left one open. _Weird_, he thought. He closed his eye again, not being able to focus it on anything in the blackness.

"Wha…" He moaned, and there was a scraping noise as a chair was slid backwards. The sharp squeak made him wince. Then a cold cloth was wiped across his forehead, and comforting words were murmured in his ear. The wet cloth felt heavenly as it glided over his fevered head, and the voice- Leo's- helped encourage him to open his eye again as the desk light was turned on. His brother looked incredibly relieved as his good eye focused fully on him, and constricted appropriately.

"Leo? What happen'd?" He asked, and Leo smiled sympathetically at him.

"Oh, you just saved a human's life is all. You know, the usual." He smiled lightly and Donnie chuckled. But just that small movement of his chest _hurt, _and he stopped and coughed, the coughing hurting even more, and he felt ashamed of himself as tears of pain made their way down his face. A hand patted his shell firmly, helping him expel the last of the sewer water still in his lungs. He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes and passing out from exhaustion, too out of it to notice that his mask was off, or that Leo had been rubbing soothing circles on his neck, or that his special 'cast wrappings' were gone.

Instead, he focused on breathing and dreaming, hoping to avoid any more painful flashbacks.

))))))))))))

"Hey guys, we brought the eye drops you requested!" Came an overly cheerful voice as the turtles' closest friend, April O'Neil, and Casey Jones entered the Lair. The redhead ran up to Leo and handed him the paper bag, which he thanked her for and took them to the kitchen, where David was.

April watched in confusion as Leo came back out, with a _human _behind him. The man froze at the cold and cautious look she gave him, while Casey took out a hockey stick. Leo noticed their reactions in time, thankfully, and waved his hands quickly.

"No no no, guys! He's a friend of Donnie's!" He explained. Davey just nodded quickly in agreement.

"Yeah, I used to be his owne-" He was cut off as Raph slapped a hand over his mouth. April stubbornly folded her arms over her chest and frowned suspiciously at the boys. At her raised brow, Mikey lowered his head and gave in to her silent demanding.

"Yeah, he… kinda sold us as babies, or something like that." He said to the floor, then looked up quickly with wide eyes.

"N-not like sold us as babies, like _slaves _or anything like that, he just raised us. No! Not like _raised _raised, cuz that was Master Splinter, but he, like, hatched us. No! I meant like he watched us hatch and cared for us. Wait, not like he was our _mom _or something like that, he was just the dude who took care of us!" By the time he finished rambling, he was out of breath and gratefully slunk to the couch as Leo took over the explanation.

"He was the one who cared for us at the pet store before Splinter bought us." The leader explained simply. April nodded her understanding, and Casey reluctantly put his hockey stick away, bummed that he didn't get to hit anything.

"Oh, well I'm April, the guys's best friend, and this is Casey." Said April, holding out a stiff hand to shake. Davey rushed forward and shook it, his large hand enveloping her tiny one.

"David Breckham. Nice to meet you." He said curtly, and she nodded, though she didn't flash her usual smile. She scrutinized the older man thoroughly, her blue eyes fierce and never wavering. Finally, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the dojo, where they could speak privately. Once they were out of earshot, she whirled on him and got so up in his face, he was pressed against the wall trying to back away.

"Listen up." She snapped. He obeyed.

"You may have been their 'owner' or whatever, but I still don't buy that crap. You were gone for sixteen years of their lives, and suddenly just pop back into it, thinking it's alright? Well, listen up, buster." She said clearly and carefully, her face contorting in almost-rage.

"You lay one _finger _on my friends, and I will make your life a living hell. You hurt Donnie any more, you die. Got it? They are off limits, _especially _Donnie. He's got enough trouble with being different, and he doesn't need _you _to emphasize it to his brothers." David nodded quickly, mentally scolding himself for being afraid of a girl half his age. Then, he realized, that what she had said was quite odd.

"Wait, do you already know?" He demanded, and she looked guiltily at the floor.

"He… told me a few weeks ago. Now listen carefully: leave. Them. Alone." She said quietly, so as not to be overheard. David nodded again, but his mind wasn't fully on what she was saying.

"Yeah, yeah, got it. But, he actually told you? Willingly?" He pleaded, very curious as to why he would tell this human his secrets, but not his own brothers. She just glared at him frighteningly before walking back out to the main room, not saying another word to the man.

"What was _that _about?" Raph asked her as she stalked over.

"He was just… filling me in on the situation." She grumped, walking over to the couch and plopping down between Casey and Mikey.

"What did you need the eye drops for anyways?" She inquired of the blue-clad turtle, who was watching worriedly as David sulked in the corner.

"I thought he 'filled you in on the situation'" Leo teased. She grunted, annoyed.

"Echo has an infection in his eye." David piped up from the corner. April shot him another glare, but he ignored it. Her angry face was immediately replaced by a concerned one.

"What happened? Where _is _Donnie?" She demanded. Mikey took her hand and led her to Donnie's room, and after a few moments they heard her tearful gasp of horror and running footsteps as she rushed to her best friend's side. Casey could barely hide the look of pure jealousy on his face, but a glare from Raph set him straight. Donnie was injured, after all.

"Sooo…. What are we gonna do?" Mikey asked as he returned to the pit. He got multiple stares of confusion.

"We're gonna not tell Donnie, first off." Raph stated, and Leo nodded in agreement.

"Okay, I'm still in the dark here." Casey pointed out dejectedly as his words fell on deaf ears.

"But Donnie will find out eventually, that dude's like… Donlock Tellolmes!" Mikey exclaimed with a cheesy smile.

"Find out what?" Came Casey's voice from the background.

"Nah, not if we handle this carefully." Leo said, dismissing Casey's comment as well as Mikey's statement.

"I vote that we tell him."

"You swore on your honor."

"Tell him what?"

"I crossed my fingers behind my back, so it doesn't count!"

"Do you even _have _any honor, Mikey?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little… Honorlly Challenged."

"Mikey, that ain't a word."

"Neither is 'ain't'."

"Whatever, we promised Father we wouldn't, so we won't. Even if _some of us _lied."

"Lied about what?!"

"SHUT UP CASEY!" They all shouted at once, and the masked vigilante sighed and sunk deeper into the sofa's fuzzy depths.

"We need to follow Splinter's orders. Besides, it would just hurt Donnie more if he knew we found out." Leo announced with an air of finality.

"Yeah, but don't you want to be there for him? He thinks he's a freak, and we can't teach him to think otherwise without him finding out." Mikey said seriously, startling his brothers once again with his sudden wisdom.

"I admit, I want to, but that would disobeying. The answer is no." Leo insisted, his leafy green skin reddening with contained anger.

And that was that.

)))))))))))))))

"Oh Donnie! What happened to you?" April whispered brokenheartedly as she sat with her best friend's head lying in her lap. He stirred slightly, but remained unconscious.

While there was always a special place in her heart for the turtles, there was an even smaller, much more special place in it for Donatello. At first, she had been rather creeped out by him, just the general fact that he was a turtle. Then, she had been skeptical of his motives for helping her. Was he doing it for some sick, perverted or inhumane reason she didn't know about? She had always been unsure. But slowly, steadily, the geeky terrapin had wormed his way closer until they were side by side, or she was riding turtle-back-ride on his shell as he carried her to safety when she was too exhausted and pained to do so herself. He had definitely grown on her, to say the least. He seemed absolutely thrilled to have a friend in her, an (almost) equal mind to his own. He helped her with homework and school projects, was always ready to back her up in a fight, patch her up, even just listened to her when she needed to talk. He was always supportive of her decisions and opinions, and while he had quite the temper on him, he never turned it on her.

She had known for some time now about his massive crush on her, and she vaguely wonders how she hadn't before. Not to say that she necessarily _hated _it… Truth be told, she felt a little something for him too, but she doesn't know if she'll ever say anything about it. She's always found it quite adorable the way he's speechless around her, and when he opened his mouth, he'd say hilarious things. She really did have quite the soft spot for him. He always put her needs before his own, and she knew without being told that he would willingly do anything for her, without a second thought. He was the perfect example of the perfect boyfriend, but she doubted it could ever be. He was a turtle, she was a human. But still, just to cheer him up a little, to give him just a little glimmer of hope, she would give him a little kiss on the cheek every once in a while, because she loved to see his face just light up like a Christmas tree.

'And,' she realized, 'I do it because I don't _want _him to give up on me. I think, deep down inside, I'm hoping that he'll eventually convince me.'

And as she realized this, she felt her heart swell a little more at the sight of him. He really was the sweetest thing. He had told her secrets about himself that his own _brothers _weren't allowed to know. She knew about his differences, she knew how he felt around his brothers, she knew it all.

And she didn't love him any less for it.

He was beautiful to her not just appearance-wise, but as a person. He was kind, patient, compassionate, understanding, and funny. Not to mention protective. While she found his over-protectiveness rather annoying in their rooftop battles and kraang fights, she still found it endearing that he thought so highly of her.

She remembered when she had fallen into that vat of mutagen, looking through the glass at Donnie's face. Many would think that she couldn't see through the goop, but she could, and she saw Donnie with a look of utmost horror, despair, guilt, and heartbreak. He did nothing to mask his raw emotions, and it had warmed her heart whenever she thought of it.

"Uhn…" came a raspy croak from below her. Startled from her thoughts, she grabbed a nearby flashlight and shined it into his red eye, which she had to hold open as he protested greatly with uncharacteristically animalistic hisses and clicks. His pupils were responsive, and he jerked his bandaged head away from her hands.

"Ugh… talk about rude awakening…" He moaned. She smiled at his attempt at humor. She placed a caressing hand lightly on his head, just above his blood red scales.

"Hey Donnie," She said quietly, in case he had a headache. He smiled ever so slightly, but his eye remained closed. Finally, it fluttered open and he looked hazily up at her, his grin growing as he tried to remove any hints that he was in pain from his features. He didn't want to worry her.

"Hey Flower," He said lightly, and she blushed slightly and chuckled.

"How ya feeling?"

"I'm-" He was cut off as his head jerked to the left in a giant exaggerated twitching motion, and his hands and legs raised up, then slammed back down on the mattress, causing April to jump. She held his head firmly in place until the seizing stopped, and he lay limply against her, gasping for breath with lungs half-full of phlegm and sewage.

"Not so good then, huh?" She asked in a cooing voice. He shrugged slightly but refrained from any other movement, he was just so exhausted. He was secretly surprised at how well she had taken his mini-seizure, how she seemed so calm and collected.

A flare of pain shot up his bad leg.

"AGH!" He cried out, clutching his leg to his plastron. He had grown used to the pain, but this was something new. April rubbed his head soothingly as his eyes grew damp. Opening his good eye, Donnie surveyed his leg- to find the source of the pain almost immediately. His wrappings were gone. Another thought came to mind, horrifying him.

"Ap-April? Is my mask on?" He asked as casually as he could, trying not to sound so panicked. His plan failed miserably, however, because she could see right through his façades.

"It's alright, Donnie. I'm the only one in here." She reassured him, and he relaxed- slightly. It wasn't enough, though.

"C-Could you please put it on m-me?" He practically begged, and she just couldn't say no to that puppy dog eye.

Reverently taking the purple cloth from its hook, she helped the turtle into a semisitting position and tied it around his face, tying it tightly and then adjusting it to fit more comfortably around his head wrappings. When she had finished, he finally relaxed, although she could tell he was secretly making a double effort to make his leg seem normal. She sighed in frustration but let it slide, picking up the nearby trashbin and holding it to his chest as he coughed more and more sewage up. Yup, this would be a long couple of weeks.

_**Just so you're aware, I may be slightly slower with my updates; I have another story I'm writing and I'm also helping my little brother write an Avengers fic. Be sure to keep an eye out for it! I'll be uploading it on my account.  
**_

_**~Violet**_

_**April: I'm glad I FINALLY was brought into this!**_

_**Raph: Yeah, everybody's totally stoked to hear you blabber.**_

_**Donnie: ***__**Slaps**__*** Raph! You leave my princess alone!**_

_**April&amp;Raph: ?**_

_**Donnie: ***__**sheepish grin**__*** I uh, meant to say, uh, PRINTER! Yeah, um, you jammed up my **_**printer **_**last week, and I thought I'd just, um, remind you.**_

_**Violet: Aww! You're so cute!**_

_**Donnie: I AM NOT CUTE!**_

_**April: Yeah, you kinda are, Donnie!**_

_**Donnie: Oh yeah, I'm adorable! ***__**smiles dreamily at April**__*****_

_**Violet: Apritello for life!**_

_**April&amp;Donnie: Awkward… um… R&amp;R!**_

_**Seriously, R&amp;R.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Here goes! A little side note (so that I don't get in trouble with my brother): Aforementioned little brother Red helped massively in the making of this chapter. I still did most of the work, but he helped with the plot. Thanks bro!**_

_**Disclaimer: My license to own them expired the day I was born.**_

_**Chapter Thirteen: A Study in Purple**_

_**(Kudos to those who can guess the reference)**_

_**Third Person POV**_

The next two weeks went by slowly, but steadily and surely, Donnie got better and started acting more and more like his old self. Ten days had passed since his last grand mal seizure, although there was the occasional absence seizure or just minor ones. Either way, his brothers had insisted on being next to him at all times, just in case.

Davey was taught the directions to the Lair, and he came once a day to check up on them and bring them supplies while April and Casey were in school. He would have just stayed down all the time, but he did have animals to sell and care for. Each day the man would rush through his jobs and hum as he worked, being the happiest he's ever been since he was little. Even if his best friend was hurt.

While Donnie was definitely improving, he still did have his bad days, such as today.

"David? April? Hello?" A hoarse voice called insistently. David was at work, however, Leo was patrolling the sewers, and April was at school, so instead it was Mikey who answered his older brother's pleas.

"Yyyes, Donnie?" He asked, sliding into the room and jumping into the air, landing on the ground right by the genius' head. Donnie jumped, but covered it with an annoyed scowl.

"Could you get Master Splinter?" Mikey shook his head.

"Sorry bro, he's having a special training session with Raphie." Donnie sighed, his head wrappings falling off and out from under his mask. He tossed them to the side, observing his surroundings with two eyes once more, although it took a while to adjust to the lighting. His eye was still red and a bit irritated, but the infection had cleared up nicely.

"Fine, I'll go get him myself." He huffed, and despite his younger brother's protests, stood up and slowly wobbled his way to the dojo, Mikey following closely behind. The purple-clad turtle held onto the bookshelves, then transferred to the doorway to the kitchen, then clung to the wooden doorframe of the dojo.

Raph was standing in a defensive position when Donnie stumbled into the room. Gaining the courage to prove his point that he was fine, he let go of the wall and slowly walked over to where Master Splinter sat with a raised brow, sweating and panting and struggling to balance; all the while pretending as hard as he could that he was just taking a casual, effortless stroll.

"Sensei," He gasped out, kneeling awkwardly in front of the rat.

"What is it, Donatello?" His father inquired, signaling for Raph to stop momentarily. Donnie gulped in precious oxygen before continuing.

"Master, I think I should be allowed to move freely about the Lair." For the past few weeks, Donnie had been confined solely to the couch, his room, and the bathroom, not allowed to move anywhere else, especially not his lab. He had slowly been going stir crazy, new experiment ideas and theories sticking in his head, begging to be tried. As if to prove his point, a new idea flashed through his mind, and he muttered it under his breath.

'If the Pythagorean theorem is correct, then why does a-squared not equal…? It doesn't make sense!' His master raised his eyebrow ever further, and Raph stifled a laugh. Mikey, though, just watched his older brother cautiously and nervously, as if he could break out in a fresh seizure any minute.

"Donatello, I do not think you are well enough." Splinter stated simply. Donnie rolled his eyes, snapping back to the present.

"But, Master, I am! I know I am, and I'm the family doctor around here!" He exclaimed, edging on disrespect. He wasn't actually sure if he was feeling well, but he needed to get off of that stinking couch! It smelled like Mikey farts! I mean, his cast wrappings were back on, his right ankle was healing and no longer wrapped, and his plastron was already scabbing. Fine, right?

Splinter walked slowly back and forth in front of his kneeling son, stroking his stringy beard as he thought. He caught a glimpse of Raphael in the corner of his eye, and he smiled as an idea came to him.

"Donatello, stand up." He commanded, and the olive green terrapin slowly obeyed, as his leg was still a bit of trouble. Raph pretended not to notice his brother struggling with his bad leg.

"If you can last three minutes in a sparring match with Raphael, then I will allow you back into your laboratory, AND back on patrols." Donnie gaped, resembling a suffocating fish. Mikey and Raph both stepped forward, protests prepared on their tongues.

"Raphael, Michelangelo, do not argue. This is your brother's choice. Get ready." Without giving his second oldest time to change his mind, however, Splinter backed away and prepared to time the match. Mikey reluctantly backed away as well, and Donnie growled deep in his throat before squatting into a defensive stance. He could do this, he reassured himself, if he avoided any direct hits and stuck to the defensive, his strong points.

Raph hesitantly got into a defensive position too, not wanting to harm his little brother now knowing what he knew. How could Splinter expect him to fight with Donnie when he knew of his frailty?

"Hajime." Came their father's starting command, and they circled each other warily, neither wanting to start the fight.

'Weird,' Donnie thought, 'Raph's always the one to start.'

They stayed like this for about a minute, before it became clearly obvious that nobody was going to charge.

"Raphael! Use your full force. No holding back." Splinter instructed, and Raph sighed dejectedly before finally complying, knowing he would only cause more trouble if he didn't listen.

Raph cried out and charged his smaller brother, who jumped right over him and attempted to land behind, only to be tripped up by the giant turtle. He landed on his shell, which put pressure on his spine and bad shoulder, and he fought the tears of pain as he rolled away from another hit. Raph had retreated into his rage, not thinking so he wouldn't accidentally hesitate. He managed to land another hit on the sore shoulder, making Donnie cry out and jump backwards, barely staying within the boundaries. Determined not to be taken down so easily, the taller turtle charged swiftly and snuck about four hits onto Raph's plastron, pushing him backwards slightly, but never getting him off his feet. They had one minute and thirty seconds to go. Now being hit made Raph angry, and not bothering to control his feelings, he bulldozed right into Donnie, stepping on his bad leg in the process and making the younger full-out scream. His cries made his brother stop his attack, watching in horror as his baby bro clutched his agonized leg to his side, tears of pain rolling down his face.

"Yame!" Came Splinter's command to stop, and then Mikey and Splinter were both crouched at his side, Mikey laying a gentle hand on his older brother's sweaty arm.

"Donnie? Bro, you okay?" He asked. Donnie didn't respond.

Raph had made his way to Donatello's side now as well, and he rolled him on his back and extended his leg the way it was designed to, checking thoroughly for any breaks or cuts. The bones felt a little chipped, but thankfully not deep enough to be broken.

"Bro, you're fine." He insisted to his crying brother, who turned his face away and hit the ground in frustration. All present were startled by this outburst.

"I'm a failure!" Donnie shouted. Raph placed a hand on his good shoulder and sat him up, then bade him to look at him.

"Donnie, you're not a failure. You're not a freak, you're not to blame." He comforted, and Donnie looked at him with eyes swimming with gratitude. He enveloped Raphael in a teary hug, happy for the first time in a long while.

But that happiness was short lived.

"Wait," Donnie said suspiciously, pulling away.

"Why would you think I thought of myself as a freak?" He demanded, his eyes widening as his brilliant mind easily put the pieces together. Even as he asked the rhetorical question, his face expressed the utmost betrayal he felt. Raph faltered, staring helplessly at the brainiac, wondering what to say. Mikey and Splinter froze as well, Splinter's eyes full of sorrow and fear.

Finding nothing to say, Raph looked apologetically at his little brother and held a hand out to him.

"Bro, I know we all think of ourselves as freaks. I just thought you wanted the comfort every once in a while." He finally provided, wanting to slap himself for the weak lie. Donnie shook his head insistently, anger growing behind his eyes. Pure, horrific fury. He stood, making a bit of distance between himself and his family.

"N-no. You know! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!" He shrieked, now directing his cold stare at Splinter, who held up an (ineffective) calming hand.

"My son," He began, slowly approaching the hyperventilating turtle. Donnie smacked his hand away, fury and hatred growing on his expressive face.

"NO! YOU BROKE YOUR WORD! YOU BETRAYED ME! YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!" He screamed, tears running down his red face. Splinter flinched at the words, but knew he deserved to be yelled at.

"And you!" He shouted, turning to Raph and Mikey.

"You're pitying me, aren't you? I can see it all now. You just can't help but treat me like a _baby, _can you? Well, newsflash, I'm 16! I DON'T WANT YOUR PITY, I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY, AND I DON'T NEED YOU!" Now his eyes were twitching, his third eyelids itching to rise and cover his Possessed Baby Doll red eyes.

"Hey guys, what's with the screaming?" Came the leader's voice as he ran into the dojo, almost running into his screaming brother's shell. He circled around Donnie until he was standing in front of the others.

"Donnie? What the heck?" He exclaimed at the feral look in the genius's eyes. Donnie whirled on him, approaching threateningly.

"And YOU!" He shrieked. Leo cringed at the harshness of his voice.

"YOU KNEW TOO, DIDN'T YOU? LIARS! YOU'RE ALL LIARS!" And now he was growling through his teeth, the trademark gap significantly less adorable right now.

"Woah, Donnie, calm down." Leo started, but was interrupted by the screaming of the turtle once again.

"NO, YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, _FEARLESS!" _He emphasized the taunt, his third lids finally covering his eyes. Splinter, tears now present on his face as well, came up behind his son and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Donnie flinched and backed away, like a scared dog being cornered.

"Don't you touch me!" He snapped. Splinter's ears drooped.

"Donatello. Please, listen to me my son." He said, his voice still at normal level. Donnie laughed angrily at him.

"How _dare _you call me your son? You- you _all_\- betrayed me!" He cried, tears now completely soaking his furious face. He was hysterical now, he felt as if he had been lied to all his life; even though his brothers had more of a right to feel in such a way.

"Donnie, we would never hate you for your difference. We love you for you." Mikey exclaimed desperately, tears filling his baby blues.

"No, you love me as _Donatello, _your geeky, fix-everything-you-break, nice guy Donatello. You never loved me as _me, _Echo Einstein Breckham." He spat, the memory of David's last words to him returning to him in that moment.

"Why did you even take me away from my master? Someone who accepted me?" He wailed, still in hysterics. He reached behind his head and ripped the purple mask from his face, throwing it on the ground in front of them.

"Well, Donatello is dead now. I am Echo, and I'm not ever going near you traitors ever again!" He shouted, ripping off his cast wrappings and tossing them to join the mask. And with that, he whirled around and ran into the sewers, not caring if he couldn't see anything. He was in too much of a hurry to let his eyes adjust.

Behind him, a devastated Mikey sank to his knees and wept into his hands, Splinter soon to join him, leaving Raph and Leo staring at the forgotten lavender mask, wondering how their family had fallen apart so quickly.

_**Special Thanks of the Week goes to… Lydja-chan! Thank you Lydja, once again! I absolutely **_**adore **_**receiving your detailed advice! Keep 'em coming!**_

_**R&amp;R!**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the belated updates! Band trip, and I just got back. Now, this chapter is more angsty, and I know you're all going to hate me because it's more flashbacks. Also, this chapter does contain injured turtle tots, so brace yourselves. Let's see if my muse is still around, or if she decided to abandon me altogether. Geronimo!**_

_**Disclaimer: I deny ownership.**_

_**Chapter Fourteen: The One Who Hears My Silent Screams**_

_**Davey's POV**_

_Doo-da, doo-da! _I hummed tunelessly to myself as I dashed through the dank sewer tunnels. My flashlight bounced brightly against the soggy cement, flashing in my eyes several times, but not dampening my mood in the slightest.

Markie was adopted today. A wonderful woman to whom the tabby had taken an instant liking had taken her home.

While she was definitely one of my favorite pets, I was still thrilled that the pet store life was no longer for her.

"David!" A voice called frantically, making me realize how close I had come to the Lair while thinking happily to myself. The fear and tenseness in the high-pitched voice shattered my happiness immediately, an iron weight settling upon my skipping heart.

"Yeah? What's wrong, A-Mikey?" I responded, wincing as I corrected myself yet again. The turnstiles came into view, and beyond them, the sight of three anxious turtles, a pacing rat, and a crying April in the stiff arms of that Casey kid. My heart dropped into my stomach, threatening to eject my lunch and spray it onto the filthy floors.

"It's… It's Donnie!" Apollo choked out, tears spilling over his sea-green cheeks. I froze in shock and fear, not knowing what to expect. Had he had another seizure? Was he dying? Whatever it was, it was definitely terrible.

"What?"

"Yeah. He found out that we know that stupid secret that _you _brought out, and he ran away!" Dragon raged, and I swear I could just see the steam rising from his head. I held my arms up defensively.

"Guys, I wasn't even _here. _Now come on, fighting and blaming will do us no good. Let's split up and look for him!" I was surprised at how calm I seemed. When no one else seemed ready to take the lead, not even Captain, I sighed and barked out directions. I was to search the east tunnels; Apollo and Captain, the west; April and Casey, the north; and Dragon would check the southern subways and drainage junctions. With a nod, we split up and ran in opposite directions, leaving Yoshi in the pit with a dejected expression on his face. He was the one who apparently made Echo the angriest, so he was to stay and monitor the goings-on in the Lair.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

_**Third Person POV**_

Oh, Donatello! Why must you break my heart? Thought Yoshi as he sank down onto the musty old couch. His whiskers and ears drooped in depression and he was uncharacteristically uncaring of his surroundings.

All the rat could focus on was his son.

He knew deep down that Donatello was only fearful of what he was so certain his brothers thought of him, and not actually angry at them. Although outwardly directed at his family, the child's anger was inwardly focused only on himself. This only broke the old ninja master's heart further. He was so afraid of being a monster to his own brothers, his desperation became an obsession, occasionally leading to dangerous actions and reactions, such as mood fluctuations, self harm, and night terrors.

He remembered all too well.

()()()()()()()()()()()

"_Ma'tewe! P'ease! Hep!" Came a tiny voice from the depths of the stiff blankets and thin sheets. Yoshi sat up grudgingly, rubbing his eye and looking to see which infant was making the fuss tonight. Fully expecting it to be the cheerful one (who was quite the troublemaker when it came to bedtime), his eyes widened when he saw it was the intelligent one who was thrashing and rolling around, nearly crushing the leader under his shell._

_He crawled his way over and scooped up the baby in his arms, cradling him awkwardly against his fur._

_In the two weeks since they had become a family and had built the nest, the rat had learned more and more about his new charges. The olive green one currently clinging desperately to his chest was the pacifist of the group, the only one able to talk, and the prodigy. This one looked quite differently than the other three, and seemed underweight and lankier. He was quiet and reserved when appropriate and quite the chatterbox any other time, ideas rushing through his little head, insisting upon being voiced._

_He had been going through a book he found in the sewer waters a week back, _Famous Artists of the Renaissance, _in search of unique, quality names for his (he double-checked earlier) sons. He had been considering Raffaelo, Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donato for them, although he had no idea yet which to call which._

_So this- temporarily- unnamed reptile infant remained curled into his warm body, awkwardly since they weren't too close yet. Naming them would be the official honorary adoption of them, in his opinion, and so they all waited understandingly and patiently to receive their names._

"_Mat'ewe! PWEASE!" Came the terrified cry of the sleeping child in his arms. His tiny body wracked with sobs, and hot tears covered his contorted face and soaked the man's body as well. He rocked his arms back in forth like he had once done with Miwa, murmuring comforts in Japanese into the small ear as the turtle tot continued to weep in despair. This boy, Yoshi swore, showed more advanced, mature emotions than a fully-grown human!_

"_Hush, young one. I am here." He whispered, so as not to wake the others. The cries died down slightly. And then suddenly the tiny terrapin was jerking madly, squirming free of his father's grasp and landing with a soft _thunk _on the blanketed floor. He made his way through the nest, walking on all fours as he was more accustomed to, his progress slowed considerably by his leg, which still spiked with raw pain._

_Yoshi gasped and followed after him, hopping over pillows and trying fruitlessly to grab the little baby before he reached the spot where his snoozing siblings were. The tempered one rolled over and mumbled grumpily in his sleep, the noise of his immediate younger brother disturbing him. He unthinkingly grabbed a nearby pillow and socked little brother right in the face, causing said little brother to screech in surprise and rear up on his shaky back legs before opening his eyes; revealing, to Yoshi's horror, milky whites where bloody red should be._

"_Cease this behavior, child!" He cried quietly, for the angry one had returned to sleep- thank the Lord. The olive turtle just hissed threateningly at him and charged his bigger brother, sharp beak opened in preparation to bite down on the babysoft flesh._

"_No!" The rat cried, finally reaching the night-terrorized__** (?) **__boy and pulling him into his arms, restraining him and taking him out into the open tunnel to cool off and leave the others sleeping. He crouched down to his haunches, holding the child firmly against his chest, facing outwards._

_The little turtle flailed his arms and kicked his foot, but Yoshi took faint note of the lack of activity from the left leg. A chubby three-fingered hand reached up and scratched at the rat's face, pulling at his whiskers and drawing blood, as his normally calm face twisted with rage too intense for a small child. His eyes seemed to glow soulless white. Furious snarls made their way past his lips, and drool ran down the meaty cheeks._

"_You are no shark. You do not bite your brothers." Yoshi scolded firmly, pinning the little hands to the turtle's bridge. A small part of his mind worried that the turtle was rabid._

_For a moment immediately after this statement, the green infant in his arms went completely limp, his head tilting to the left and his third lids going down, his pupils dilating to almost completely cover his irises._

_And then his every muscle was tense, and he started biting the air in front of their crouched forms, growling and seemingly mindless._

_His reaction seemed almost Pavlovian._

"_Child!" He cried in shock and fear and anger all at once. There was no response other than an increase in the snapping. The boy was strong, Yoshi had to admit, and it took everything he had to keep him restrained. He searched his mind frantically for a way to stop this before the child hurt himself or others._

"_Turtle! You do not behave this way!" He insisted again. The fear and worry in his voice was increasing, and he was too busy to try and conceal it. The turtle continued what he was doing, but there was now a more hurt look in his eyes and he seemed to be masking it with anger. And that little revelation made way for another, bigger, more important one._

_Of course the infant wouldn't respond to names like 'baby', or 'child', or 'turtle.' He must be feeling lonely or lost, and not being called by an actual name- something to help you feel like you belong- must have been hurtful. Maybe the fear in his adopted father's voice had also hurt him, made him more upset as his anger ebbed._

"_Donato! Cease this at once!" He shouted without thinking, wincing at the volume at which he had made the exclamation. And suddenly, the tantrum stopped, and he now had two scarlet orbs masked in maroon staring up at him in confusion. He had finally woken up._

"_Wha'dju caw me?" Came the raspy, hiccup-filled voice._

"_I called you by your name. Your name is Donato, after the sculptor." He explained, inwardly cursing himself. How could he expect a mere infant to understand?_

_The baby shook his round head insistently._

"_No, my nae's nawt 'Nato. 's gotta 'ave a 'tewwo' at da end." He stated simply, as one would state the correct spelling of their name and not what their name should _be.

_Yoshi blinked in surprise. He had indeed read that Donato di Niccolo di Betto Bardi had sometimes gone by 'Donatello', but how could this turtle know that? He had apparently underestimated this child's intelligence._

_He tugged his new beard thoughtfully as the wide bloody red eyes watched him intensely, waiting eagerly for the approval of the name he had so cleverly provided._

"_Alright, young one, if that is what you are comfortable with, then Donatello your name shall be." He smiled at the gummy beam that covered the adorably tiny features, and he was then pulled into a tight hug as the last of the tears finally dried._

"_Da'ey? I dweemed I hu't bi' bwuddewe an' you. Ih wa'sh scawy." He confessed, rubbing his arm nervously. He was studying his father's fuzzy face, clearly trying to reassure himself that it was just a dream. But then his gaze landed on the tiny patch of blood right beneath Yoshi's left eye._

"_No! I hu't you! Imma montewe!" The infant cried, fresh frustrated tears emerging from olive lids. _

_With a swift jump, the mutant had run into the corner opposite, curling in on himself and sobbing. The mutant rat sat watching the dark corner, wondering what to do. Maybe he should give Donatello some time to himself? But it was late, and the infant needed his sleep. He knew though that it would be better for the boy to have a little time to cool off and think. Making up his mind, Yoshi waited ten minutes before he stood and crept closer to the dark form that was his genius son. He placed a hand gently on the bony shoulder._

"_Donatello? Come, my son, it is alright. It was an accident. Come now, come to father." He cooed. The turtle stayed where he was._

"_Donatello?" He asked, now a bit concerned that his son had stiffened considerably. He grabbed the tiny arm in his large hand, and his horror flared at the hot stickiness residing there._

"_My son! What has happened to you?" He exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet for the moment as he forcefully turned his child to face him, pulling him into a lighter patch._

_Snot and tears ran freely down the pale, emotionless face and the normally bright and lively eyes were glassy and now a faded red. Bright scarlet rivulets spider-webbed his tiny arms, streaming from large, deep cuts that crisscrossed the pale upper arms._

"_DONATELLO!" He cried, scooping up the lifeless child and running to the entrance to the nest, grabbing a blanket and wrapping the cold boy in it, pressing hard on the cuts to staunch the bloodflow. By now, the other three infants had awoken, silently crying into each other's embraces, watching fearfully as their sweet brother knocked on Death's door, and Yoshi could only pray that it wouldn't be answered._

"_Donatello, come on, answer me, my son!" He begged of the prone form that grew ever colder and stiffer. The turtle's breaths came in shorter gasps and shallower wisps, and his pulse slowed considerably with each passing moment. His little eyes slowly… slipped… closed._

_And then his lungs gave up altogether; soon followed by his heart._

"_My son! Breathe!" The rat demanded, pounding on the fragile chest as he desperately attempted CPR. The hard plastron was blocking his blows, though, and he regrettingly hit even harder, until the fluttering beats resumed under his fingertips. A spluttering gasp resounded through the tunnels as the boy sucked in a large gulp of oxygen, his eyes shooting open but remaining unfocused. The bloodflow had continued in his arms, however, and the sheet he was wrapped in was soaked completely through with Donatello's blood._

"_Leonardo!" He cried out, not wanting to bring the others into this but knowing he had no other choice. The leader turtle crawled forward hesitantly, pointing up at himself questioningly, silently asking, 'you mean me?' He had apparently just named another one._

_Yoshi motioned him over and instructed him to press down as hard as he could on the smaller kame's arms, to which he complied without question and with a determined look on his leafy face._

_Hamato Yoshi ran over to his pack, the only thing left from his human life, and rummaged through it in a panic until his long fingers wrapped around the small, smooth shape of his old cell phone._

_The phone- a rather old model- had been saved for emergencies, with only a few minutes left to use. Now seemed as good an emergency as any._

_He switched it on and shielded his eyes momentarily as the bright glow penetrated the dim lighting and his eyes adjusted. His fingers automatically dialed 911 without much conscious thought, as he was quite possibly in shock._

"_911, what's your emergency?" A nasally female voice drawled from the other end. The man sighed in relief._

"_Hello? Yes, my young son, he has cut himself on-" He paused for a second, realizing he had no idea what had cut the child. "- well, I'm not sure exactly. But the cuts resemble many scratches on his upper arms, and he is bleeding heavily. His lungs and heart gave out for a moment, but I got them going again. What should I do?" He demanded._

"_Sir, what's your address? If he stopped breathing, he needs some medical attention right away." The feminine voice monotoned. Yoshi sucked in a breath.  
_

_"I… I cannot give you my address. I cannot afford a stay at the hospital." He lied quickly. "Now, what do I do?" _

_The woman on the line coughed angrily, probably furious that a father could be so cruel as to not provide his young child with medical care._

"_Sir, I must insist that you give me your address." Came another plea, this time sounding more human._

"_Ma'am, please, just tell me what to do! Please, he will not last much longer!" He was struggling to keep his calm demeanor. There was a reluctant sigh of defeat and then some typing._

"_Alright, first make sure he is kept warm. Keep the affected areas elevated, and wrap them firmly in clean cloth. Do not switch the cloths unless they have completely leaked through. Keep him awake as long as possible, and closely monitor his breathing and pulse. Keep him dry. Do not let him move around too much. How old is he?" She inquired. The turtles' father drew a blank, not actually aware of their ages, and quickly motioned the angry one over, holding his cheeks open and studying the size of his teeth._

"_Erm.. about eight months." He provided, and there was more furious typing._

"_Okay, no solid foods for him, keep him hydrated, and after two days, start washing the cuts regularly with clean water to prevent infection." The woman informed him. "You must also determine what he cut himself on. You said the cuts resemble deep scratches?" She asked, a strange tone entering her otherwise calm voice._

"_Yes, they are shaped like crosses going up and down his upper arms." There was a slight pause and doubtful murmuring on the other line._

"_Well, the only thing I can imagine could cause what you've described is… well, it's not possible at his age!" She seemed to scold herself. Yoshi's heart froze in fear._

"_Please, what is it?" He begged. There was a sigh before she continued with her diagnosis._

"_Well, they sound almost exactly like… they were, well… self inflicted." She admitted at last, and all was silent for several moments._

"_Sir?" Came the worried call as he failed to respond. He numbly pressed the _end _button and flung the phone into the sewage, staring dumbly at the limp child as he was nearly smothered by his overprotective older brother. Then, he snapped back into action._

"_Leonardo! Grab more blankies." He instructed, using words he knew the child would understand. The boy nodded and ran to the other two, who were still cradling each other fearfully. Yoshi took over pressing on the cuts, occasionally removing the cloth to see if the blood was slowing. It was._

_Donatello's skin was regaining slight color in his cheeks, but his eyes remained closed and his breaths were labored. The red mask was wet with drying tears, and the left leg lay sprawled at an unnatural angle that was not uncommon for the baby._

"_Donatello, my son, open your eyes. You must stay awake!" He cried, gently shaking the small shoulders. Donnie's eyes fluttered open, but they were rapidly flitting back and forth, not focusing on any one thing. He groaned deep in his little throat, and reached a chubby hand up to scratch at the irritated cuts. His hand was firmly pushed back down by his father's._

_The small boy was wrapped securely in the few clean blankets they had left, and the cuts were bandaged tightly in a few clean socks from Yoshi's pack. Cold water was poured down his throat at regular intervals, and his torso was propped up against a few pillows. Throughout the next few hours, the turtle had to fight very hard to keep his eyes open, and even harder to focus them on anything. He barely acknowledged his family's presence. He lay limply and didn't protest to anything done to him, almost comatose, except for his open eyes, which just wouldn't stop darting in every direction, back and forth and side to side, in endless sporadic bursts. This behavior worried his family to no end, and the remaining tots could only watch with scared thumbs in their mouths as they waited for their brother to get better and go play with them, so that everything would be happy again._

_Little cheerful turtle finally had had enough of the terror, and his desperate squeal filled the sewers._

"'_ONNIE!" He wailed (his first word), and the addressed turtle immediately jumped at the sound of his terrified younger brother's voice, his eyes snapping towards the youngest and staying focused on him intently. All collected breaths were released, and Yoshi stooped by his sickly son's side and rubbed his head soothingly._

"_Donatello, my son, are you alright?" He asked quietly. Donnie teared up a bit, but nodded with a trembling bottom lip._

"_Yeah, I's aright. Why'd you nae'm me? I a montewe." He asked in a weak voice, a single tear sliding down his rosy cheek. Yoshi was taken aback, and the other three quadruplets shook their heads adamantly._

"_My son, you are no monster. You have hurt no one, and you are going to be fine. What cut your arms?" He asked, terrified of the answer. The baby looked guiltily at him, then glanced intently at his tiny toes._

"_I did it. Was 'n accidint, but I guesh I kinda 'served it." He said at last, another tear joining the last. Yoshi had tears on his own face now, his fears confirmed. He placed a kiss on the sweaty forehead and continued to rub Donnie's head._

"_Donatello, I never want you to hurt yourself ever again. It is not okay, because you almost died, and we would have been devastated without you. Do you understand?" Donnie nodded, but when he turned to apologize to his siblings, he found them asleep, piled on top of one another. He smiled and settled carefully into his fluffy bed, closing his eyes._

"_Daddy?" He asked, startling the rat out of his thoughts._

"_Yes, Donatello?"_

"_Why… _yawn_… din't you nae'm Raphie and Mi'ey?" He asked with his eyes still closed. Yoshi looked at him peculiarly. Had the boy picked out names already? Donnie opened his eyes upon sensing his father's curious staring._

"_Who is who, may I ask?"_

"_Raphie is… ummm…" The child paused, struggling to find a way to describe his brother. "He's biggewe dan me, an' he'sh got da lightni'n mawk, and da shiny eysh." He smiled confidently. Yoshi smiled at the description, and the adorable lisp. Once his final teeth grew in, hopefully his speech would clear up._

"_So, your angry brother is named Raffaelo?" He asked, chuckling. The child stuck out his tongue and shook his head as if disgusted by the word._

"_Nah. No 'fayellow' but wif a 'fayewe'." He said seriously, staring with large eyes at his adopted father._

"_No faelo… with fael… Rafael?"_

"_No, you spewwed it wong! Wif a…a… PH!" He cried triumphantly, making the sleeping turtles squirm a little in their sleep. Yoshi wondered how he could spell a word wrong whilst _speaking _it, but decided not to doubt his son's methods._

"_Okay, so that's 'Raphael'" he said, pointing to the grumpy turtle, sleeping on top of the next turtle to be pointed at, "And that is 'Michelangelo'?" His clarification was met with an excited nod and a large, but sleepy, smile. Yoshi had to admit, he liked those names much better._

"_Da'ey?" The sleepy voice drawled again. Splinter hugged the boy once more before looking into his scarlet eyes, covered in a red ninja's mask._

"_I din't hu't you too bad?" He demanded, trying to reassure himself that his father was telling him the truth._

"_Yes, child, I am fine." He said with a small, sad smile. The boy nodded once and closed his heavy eyelids. _

_A question popped into Yoshi's head, and he wanted to punch himself for how stupid he was!_

"_Donatello?" He started, but one look at the olive turtle, and he knew he was fast asleep. His tiny plastron undulated slowly with stronger breaths, and his eyes moved rapidly underneath their lids, indicating deep sleep. Every once in a while, whilst letting out a deep breath, the baby would let out a soft _coo _and lick his little lips, making anyone's heart melt at the adorable sight. It was times like this that reminded the rat that Donatello was only an infant, despite his intelligence._

_He smiled lovingly and stroked the smooth head._

'_How did you cut yourself?' He asked silently._

_()()()()()()()()()()()()()()_

There had been many times that he had almost lost Donatello, way too many. The teen was permanently covered in a variety of scars, including some pretty clear ones shaped like crosses drawn in finger paints with two fingers, the lines going side-by-side. His son, not even a year old at the time, had _hurt himself_. The scars were not all on the skin, however, and Donatello certainly wasn't the only one with them. His traumatic experiences scarred his brothers and father as well, even if the boys had no recollection of it.

It had taken years of hard work, meditation sessions, lip sealing and brain-stimulating activities to distract the purple-clad turtle from this memory, the worst one by far, but Splinter still feared the day when his fragile-minded son would be bombarded with them, the feelings of self hatred he felt back then to add to the ones he already felt. But he hoped against hope that he was wrong, that maybe he had managed to lock the memories away forever and his son could go without their burden.

Fresh tears going down his face, the ninja master stood up, brushed the couch fluffies from his dark brown fur and red kimono, and stood vigil by the entrance, waiting impatiently for his prodigal son to return home.

_**So, what's your opinion? Has my muse left me, or is she still here? ;) Anyways, sorry if you found any of the above text disturbing. I promise it won't stay this bad, just in an angsty patch. R&amp;R!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Chapter 15! Be sure to send me e-good luck! I may be in a crappy mood for this chapter, because I just found out my favorite band teacher is leaving. :'( Anyways, lots of references to my favorite movie, so some of ya'll may be fangirling by the end.**_

_**Disclaimer: Dude, do you even care? Sorry, that was rude; Nope, not mine.**_

_**Special Thanks to: Leofan! Thanks, Leo! Your encouragement means a lot to me!**_

_**Chapter Fifteen: Oh Echo, Wherefore Art Thou?**_

_**Echo's POV**_

_Splash! _The cold water rose up around my foot as I dashed through the sewage, blindly darting from one tunnel to the next. I didn't know where I was going or what I would do when I got there, but I didn't care at that moment. It felt so strange to have the wind whipping at my naked face, and to have my bad leg bend so freely in the way it was supposed to.

'We love you for you!' Yeah, right. I couldn't believe they had betrayed me like that! My own _father _freely distributed my secrets like candy from a clown, and now my brothers thought I was a freak. A part of me deep down wanted to believe them _so badly, _but I knew it was too good to be true. I had hurt them before, I could do it again. It's best to stay away from them, avoid hurting them, and hurting myself further by staying around to receive those unbearable looks of pity. They think I can't tell when they look on my back with sympathy, but I have an almost sixth sense for these things.

I just can't believe I didn't realize _why _they were giving the looks to me sooner!

The hurt I was feeling bubbled up from the darkest pits of my heart, soon overwhelming me and causing a typhoon to fall from my eyes, soaking my face. I didn't care. It's not like I needed to keep up appearances anymore.

'David, I need to find my Master!' I thought as my eyes continued to strain, trying desperately to adjust to the fleeting lights of the dank sewers. I jumped over a large lump that I just barely missed, clipping my bad leg on it as I went. It hurt like heck, but I wasn't stopping until my feet were mere nubs and my heart gave out.

Anything to get away from the pain that was my family.

_Ex-family, _I reminded myself. Another pained tear slid down my face.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

_**Davey's POV**_

"Echo?" I called out, my voice immediately bouncing back at me in cruel repetition. There was no answer, although I was sure he was down here, since they said this was the way he had gone. This whole situation was incredibly _Frozen_, if you ask me.

Just to entertain myself, I called out, "Elsa?" and was rewarded with a small shuffling sound, too large to be a rat or a cockroach. The sound had come from my left, and when I turned I was met with a large metal door, rusted slightly at the hinges and bearing an electronic lock, looking to be of Echo's design. It was bolted firmly shut.

I knocked once, receiving no answer as I had expected. There was, however, a presence inside that I could sense, and I knew he was in there, waiting for me to leave so he could probably continue running away.

I knew he was hurting; heck, I would be too. He had just found out that his whole family had been lying to him, and I knew he thought they regarded him as a freak for it. While being a pacifist, a genius, and a generally quiet and calm turtle, he was deep down very emotionally unstable and scarred. He was so scarred inside, it could definitely compete with his outside, which was in fact covered in a variety of scars. I could tell by observing his behavior that he did have quite the difficult childhood, although not like abuse or anything, but more along the lines of self-hatred.

I knew he needed some cheering up before he would let anyone, even me, near, so I smiled impishly as my devious plan was set into motion.

I approached the door and knocked, coughing and clearing out my throat before I finally began.

_Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock. "Echo? Do you wanna build a robot? Come on, let's go invent! I hardly see you anymore, come out the door, it's like you've gone awaaay!" _I sang shamelessly. As I went, I could hear contained chuckles from within, though they were tinted with sadness.

"_We used to be best buddies, and now we're not. I wish you would tell me whyyyy!" _I had to hold in my own giggles.

"_Do you wanna build a robot? Doesn't have to be a robot!" _I sang though the crack underneath the steel door. I waited patiently for him to finish the line. There was a sigh, and then the door opened, much to my surprise. And here I was ready to sing the next two verses!

I entered the small room, containing a small pool full of minnows, and a concrete ledge four feet above it, with a few rocks emerging from the wall to make a natural ladder. Echo sat on the ledge, kicking his feet back and forth, staring blankly at the tiny fish as they swam carelessly. A small lantern shone in the corner, casting the rest of the room in shadows.

"Hey Echo." I said carefully, climbing clumsily up the wall until I was plopped right next to him. He smiled sadly at me, then hung his head in a depressed manner.

"Hey." He whispered. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He winced a bit, but then smiled at me in reassurance.

"Echo, buddy, why are you hiding from them?" He tensed up, and his eyes narrowed.

"Because," He said, picking up a pebble from a nearby pile and angrily throwing into the pool, startling the miniscule fish," they betrayed me. You're my family, always have been." I was a bit shocked at this, but shook out of it and gently argued.

"Echo, I'm not your family anymore. As much as I wish that wasn't true, it is. They feed you, give you shelter, give you love. That's more than I could have given you." I couldn't keep the sad tinge from my voice. He looked at me wide-eyed, spluttering in disbelief.

"But-But you _cared _about me! As _me! _They think I'm a freak, and I'm afraid of hurting them, and my life would have been so much easier with you!" He cried, frustrated tears falling into the pool below.

"Okay, you wanna know why I sold you?" I asked firmly. I was not accepting this crap. He gave me a confused glance.

"Because you would have _died._" His eyes widened, then slammed shut as he clutched the sides of his head.

"No! No, you wouldn't have… would you?" His head was shaken back and forth as he struggled with the idea.

"No, but my father would have. When your leg healed improperly, he had decided to put you out of your misery. If Yoshi hadn't bought you, you'd be dead right now. So stop hating them, they've been nothing but good for you." He had stilled, but still refused to make eye contact with me.

"And assuming you hadn't been put down, if you stayed with me, you would be an elderly_ normal_ turtle, not doing any of the amazing things you've accomplished." There were anguished tears running down his face. Finally, he looked up at me from his slumped position with wide, fearful eyes, childlike hope barely hidden beneath the surface.

"But, they think I'm a freak! They pity me!" He insisted in a weak voice.

"… I could hurt them again…" He whispered moments later, breaking eye contact and staring into the depths of the minnow pool. I replaced my hand on his shoulder.

"No, you won't. You care too much about them to do that." He glared at me, shrugging my hand off. His bright red eyes bored into my soul with anger and desperation.

"No, you don't get it!" He cried, standing up quickly- his leg giving out for a moment- and I had to rush to grab his leg to keep him from taking a plunge. I remained seated then as he paced anxiously.

He took a deep, calming breath and looked me in the eye.

"When we were just a few years old… I almost killed Mikey." He sobbed, covering his face in shame. I gasped a bit, but gave him a 'continue' look.

"Well, we were four years old, and back then I was going through a sort of tempered streak I guess. I was worse than Raph, always picking on everybody. Especially Mikey." He said, his eyes gaining a faraway look.

"One day, I was calling him names like 'stupid' and 'idiot' because he knocked over one of my experiments. He was crying and apologizing, but I wouldn't have it. I-" He gulped, "-I kicked him in the stomach, and he hit the wall really hard. I-I got so _scared _because I thought he was dead, and he wasn't _moving _and I just- I just…" There were more tears dripping down over his flushed face and he kept sniffling like a child. He swallowed again to regain his control and continued with a choked and thick voice, "I kept slapping him and trying to wake him up, but he _wouldn't _and he kept moaning and he was crying and there was blood _all over _his body and I thought he was _dying _and there was _nothing _I could do! I didn't _know _I was so strong, and I _hated _myself for being so horrible to him! And when he did wake up, he stayed away from me for a _week!_ He was _scared _of me, and I _deserved_ it." He was breathing quickly and trying very hard not to cry again. "I _forced_ myself to become a pacifist, because whenever I even _thought _about fighting, it reminded me _every time _of _our _fight, and then I would see his blood all over the place and I would puke and now the second thing on my list of hopes is that he doesn't remember it, because I think I'd go _insane _without my little brother… My _only _little brother."

I sat in silence as I took in his story. I had known he had had a really rough childhood, but I hadn't known it was _that _bad. Because he was born different than his brothers, he grew up a broken child. He feared the most ordinary actions and situations just because he couldn't control the 'monster' inside of himself. I could just imagine my little Echo, a scared four-year-old wearing a tearstained purple mask and prototype cast wrappings, knelt down over his little brother's prone form as he sobbed and begged for him to wake up. It's not an image I enjoyed to think on.

"Hey, buddy. It's alright. Do you really think you hurt Angie on purpose? No, you were a stressed and confused child, and you took it out on everything else, and I can't blame you! I'm sure your brother forgave you long ago; why else would he have forgotten it?" I asked, standing and patting his shell comfortingly. He looked at me with wide, fearful eyes as he debated whether or not to hope. Finally, he burst into a fresh wave of frustrated tears and slumped his bony shoulders.

"I-I just don't know anymore! They hate me anyways, after how horribly I treated them! Why is my life so complex?" He sobbed. I stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened at first, unsure, but eventually relaxed into my touch and hugged me back, almost clinging to me.

He buried his face in my neck and sobbed more, his hot tears absorbing into my shirt. I remembered back when I was a chubby eight-year-old hugging my beloved friend desperately in the need for comfort. Now it was my turn to give comfort back.

The way he clung so terrified to my chest and hid his face reminded me of something a small child would do; I realized that this, this reassurance and hugging, was something he had been needing, _craving, _since he was a tiny turtle tot. His father had provided the hugs and reassurance, but they came from a parent, someone whose job was to comfort and hug and make their children feel better. Having someone who was not related to him, someone who could easily run away in fear and stay away from him forever if they wanted to, confidently touch him and let him touch them, proved to him that nobody, not even a (basically) stranger, feared him or thought him a freak. Every child needs this, and unfortunately not every child gets it. And so now that he finally got it, his inner, broken child was reemerging and being laid to rest.

We stayed like that for a few minutes before he finally ceased his sobbing and pulled away, a slight red tinge to his cheeks. I nodded understandingly and waved my hand in dismissal; no big deal.

"Dude, this is _so _Frozen. You could be Elsa! _'I'm such a fool, I can't be freee!' _and then the whole _'so stay away and you'll be safe from meee!'" _ I joked, making him chuckle slightly.

We resumed our seating in the rocky ledge, me watching amusedly as his eyes glinted predatorily towards the miniscule fish lazily drifting around below. Playfully, I pushed on his shell and he fell in the water with a cry of surprise, and I vaguely wondered if his techno-shell was waterproof. When the small grey patch did not react to the liquid, I sighed in relief and watched as he goofily stalked the flittering fish around the pool, managing to gorge himself on four of them before climbing out and shaking himself like a dog. I climbed down and placed a meaningful hand on his green shoulder, and the look in my eyes communicated to him wordlessly that it was time to go home. He looked crestfallen but nodded with slightly fearful determination. We stepped forward, he pushed the button on his phone, and the metal door squealed open before us, revealing the darker depths of the sewers beyond.

Since he was used to this place and I wasn't, I grabbed onto the fringe on his shell and he led the way back to the Lair in comfortable silence. The only noises were the splashes of our feet and the scuffling of small animals in the darkness.

We were about five minutes from the Lair when Echo suddenly stopped, tilting his head inquisitively every few moments, listening warily for something. Then, in one swift movement, he had us pressed up against the rounded wall, pressing a large hand over my mouth, accidentally covering my whole face for a moment.

Coming from the direction from which we had been approaching, there was a small patting noise, like very light footsteps. Ninja. He warily moved into a defensive position with me squatting behind him, and when the footsteps passed by, he lunged at the dark figure and tackled it to the ground, not allowing it to get any closer to their home. There was a robotic screech, and then all was silent again as my heart thumped in my chest.

And then suddenly there came the sounds of at least 20 more ninjas, each trying to land a blow on the turtle. One of them brought a lantern and left it in a nearby corner to help them see whom they were fighting. With the tunnel illuminated, I could see at least 30 of the Foot ninja crammed into the small tunnel, all of which beginning to overwhelm Echo, who was fighting them off with his fists. I got an idea that would hopefully be subtle enough that the robots wouldn't be able to trace it.

"Echo!" I cried, thankfully not drawing any of the ninjas towards me. Echo looked at me in confusion whilst simultaneously bashing a robot's head in.

"_It's the, eye of the __**tiger**__!" _I sang loudly, and he smiled slightly before baring his claws and impaling another 5 bots.

"Remember that _Green __**Giant **_commercial we saw yesterday?" Now he was giggling quietly as he jumped on top of a droid's shoulders and opened his pointed beak menacingly. I wracked my brain for something creative.

"Sorry, I don't **speak **Vietnamese!" I called with an apologetic tone. The next moment his screams were echoing throughout the tunnels, and I had to clamp my hands over my ears to avoid going deaf. 10 more droids dropped to the ground, their purple electricity flashing in the dim lighting.

"Hey, when's _**Shark **__Week _starting?" I asked, and he dropped on all fours and chomped around the first bot's waist, at the same time ramming him against the other 10 that were lined up behind him. When he stopped, he was closely encircled by angry Foot. One managed to land a few hits on his plastron before I called out, in a panic, "DISCO BALL!" He jumped up a few feet, landed spinning on his shell, drew his head into his shell, and extended his claws once again, decapitating the last 12 ninjas.

Now, I was so enthralled, I made one mistake. I had been so caught up in the fight, I hadn't even thought about looking behind me. Oh, well. Everybody makes teeny mistakes sometimes, right? Except this mistake wasn't so teeny.

"Echo, fini-AHH!" I was cut off by my own cries of pain as there was a flare of excruciating pain in my chest. There was a maniacal laugh behind me and then the katana that had been lodged in my chest was yanked out of my back, and I dropped to my knees gasping, then curled into myself on the cold, wet floor as black threatened to coat my field of vision. Karai stood over me, a satisfied smirk on her young face as she wiped the crimson from her blade. The pain in my chest was horrible, almost blinding me as tears flowed unchecked from my eyes.

"Pathetic." She said for the second time since I'd met her, and she raised her foot to press on my stab wound. I cringed in anticipation.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU B****!" Came an infuriated cry from my left. A green figure rammed her right into the wall, and the sounds of multiple punches and gasps of pain overwhelmed my sensitive ears. I wanted to turn to see what was happening, but I was so weak from bloodloss, and I was in so much pain, I just couldn't manage it.

There was one more cry of rage and then the blonde-and-black-haired girl was flung on the ground a few feet to the left, where she lay lifelessly. Was she dead? I asked myself dazedly. And then suddenly there were three more green blobs in my blurry vision as they bent worriedly over me, and suddenly I was lifted and gently carried away, the slight bumps jostling my wound and making me scream in pain.

The merciful black finally overtook my vision, and I lay limply as three sets of careful hands hurriedly carried me to safety.

_**Echo's POV**_

Red. That is all I can see. Red- the color of Master's blood. That evil witch had hurt my best friend, and she thinks she can get away with it? O-hoh, no.

I press her against the wall and punch her over and over again, ignoring her grunts and pleas for mercy as her body goes slowly limp. Her katana drops to the ground with a _clang!_

I grab it and fling her over my friend's dying body, and barely take note of the fact that my brothers and father are hurriedly carrying Davey away. Leo shoots me a worried and warning look, but I don't give a crap. I want this over.

I stand over her limp form, wielding the alien weapon over my head. For years this woman has terrorized, hurt, and tried to kill my family. I don't care that Leo loves her, this ends. Now.

"Pl-please, turtle. Do you have any honor?" She snaps weakly, coughing into her hand.

"You stabbed my best friend in the back. Do you have any honor?" I return, glaring at her.

"I did the r-right thing." She gasps out. I feel my heart catch on fire.

"Well, you did the 'right thing'," I say, strangely calm, "Now it's my turn." And with that, my third lids cover my eyes, and I prepare to strike the death blow.

The blade buries itself in her flesh.

I check her neck and wrist for a pulse.

She is finally dead.

It's over.

_**Nameless's POV**_

I run. I run fast. To the Lair, where they are waiting.

They bring me to David, who is comatose on the cot in the med bay. He is pale and his breaths are shallow. There is a gaping hole in his chest.

I clean, disinfect, and bandage the wound, but he does not wake up. I am scared.

Someone must stay with him tonight. He is taken to my room. He sleeps on my bottom bunk. As he is carried in, he still does not wake up. And I am still scared.

I leave the room, because I cannot take it anymore. I think I am in shock.

Without speaking, my father pulls me to him. I numbly return this embrace, but my mind is on other things. Forgiveness.

I bow in front of him. He smiles sadly. I cannot hold back my tears. Everything has welled up inside of me. But amongst these things, guilt is missing. I do not regret killing David's attacker. I would do it again.

I beg for forgiveness. I cry. My brothers cry along with me. I cannot see it, but I can feel it. There is a warm hand on my frozen shoulder. I look up anxiously. I expect an angry face. I find none. A smile- an actual smile- graces his features. He pulls me to stand in front of him. He hands me my wrappings.

I take them. I stare. I do not know what to think or do anymore.

And then, clarity. It is etched on my siblings' loving, confident faces. I understand, and I accept. I smile up to my father.

I rip the cloth in half.

Now everyone is smiling, no-beaming. Even April and Casey, who are in the corner to give us a bit of privacy. I am happiest I have felt in years. No one says a word. No one needs to. I am free. I feel lighthearted and joyful. I am one with the wind and sky. Let it go, let it go, you'll never see me cry.

Here I stand, and here I _will _stay.

Raphael extends his hand. He holds something with utmost reverence. It is purple, and stained, and ratty, and rough on the edges. The tails are torn and there are lighter patches and stiff spots from many a tear.

It is beautiful.

It is newly cut. Where there had once been a few centimeters of concealing cloth, there is nothing. It is smaller, covers less now.

It is perfect.

I take my mask and tie it around my head, and it fits much more comfortably than before. A mirror is placed in my numb hands.

My true mask is visible. Where the purple ends, red begins. While I now want to show my red scales, purple is still a part of who I am. And now, I have both. Tears flow down my face. They are happy tears. April hugs me. I don't blush. Casey doesn't frown.

Everybody has reason to celebrate, even if just for a moment.

I am Donatello once more.

_**I know, really choppy sentences, but I felt like this style of writing would help communicate the feels of this part. Another note, yes, Davey called Mikey "Angie". That's because some people named Angelo go by it, and since Mikey's full name has Angelo in it, I thought I'd have a little fun. **_

_**Also, sorry to Leo lovers, he doesn't do much in this story and his girlfriend is dead. Please don't kill me.**_

_**R&amp;R!**_


	16. Chapter 16

Alright, this story is starting to wrap up nicely! And yes, that sadly is a hint towards the inevitable fact that this story is coming to an upcoming end. :( Like, two more chapters left, so be sure to savor them!

Disclaimer: 'shnot mine.

Chapter Sixteen: Fare Thee Well

Donnie's POV

There is a spluttering gasp from in front of me, and I jerk my head up excitedly. It's just another false alarm, David is still asleep. His chest is swaddled securely in gauze. I so wish he would wake up, just once, so that I could apologize. The guilt that he is dying because of me does not suppress easily.

This man had risked so much for me, so much of his life. He could have left me to die on that roof. I would have died an unhappy turtle, not knowing how much my brothers actually cared for me. My whole family has something to thank him for.

"Donnie," comes a tired voice from my doorway, "it's three a.m. You should be sleeping." I sigh and rest my head on my arms.

"April, I can't. What if he wakes up? What if something happens? It's my duty to keep him well." I insist, not quite fully aware of what exactly I'm saying. I know I'm half asleep, and that being in this state will do no good, but that doesn't mean I won't go down without a fight.

She grunts in playful frustration and walks up to me slowly, placing a soft hand on my shoulder. Goosebumps run down my arms and my heart beats just a little quicker.

"Hamato Donatello, you go to bed right now." She demanded, breaking out my full name in an effort to scare me into submission. Her thin fingers lightly toy with the tails of my mask, and I can almost feel the smile on her face as she admires it.

Then they gently run over the scales around my eyes, softer than a butterfly's wing beat. Those scales to me have always been a more sensitive spot, and her light touches send waves of comfort through me. The rumbling deep in my chest starts before I can stop it, and then it's emerging from my mouth and the rumbling noise is loud enough for her to hear, even if she hasn't felt it vibrating throughout my body.

She giggles and compares me to a cat, and I halfheartedly laugh along with her, just basking in the rare happiness her beautiful smile gives me. And then she's guiding me by the shoulders to the ladder and forcing me up into my bunk, all the while promising to watch my best friend for me.

"I'll let you know if anything happens." She reassures me. I still feel doubtful, but barely have time to argue before I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

April's POV

It was almost four in the morning when I was awoken by a dry throat. In the kitchen, putting my now empty glass into the sink, I had noticed a few noises coming from Donnie's room. I had been pretty sure that he would be awake, and I wanted him to sleep, because he is the exact opposite of productive when tired.

After I had finally gotten him into his own bed and had taken his place in the office chair pulled up by the bottom bunk, I sat there, thinking.

This strange man had basically given his life for Donnie, even though they didn't know each other all _that _well. Or did they? I had never really asked the techno-turtle what their story together was. I was too blinded by fear and doubt to bother, I guess. But now I really wanted to know what the connection was. He had sold them to Yoshi, but so what? Why the desperate need to make friends with them, Donnie especially?

The man in question didn't stir, his breathing staying shallow and ragged. As much as I hated to say it, there was nothing left for us to do. Even with proper medical care, the blade had nicked at least two arteries, had punctured at least one lung, and possibly more organs. There was nothing anyone could do at this point other than hope and pray. And for my best friend's sake, I prayed like crazy. I knew how much this other human meant to him, I could tell by the looks in his eyes. I knew it would hurt him a lot to lose David, whatever his reasoning was.

But I knew this man's time was running out.

Donnie's POV

"Donnie!" Came the shouting voice of my other human best friend. The desperation in her voice was enough to startle me awake, and I shot up in bed, jumping down by her side as she leaned over David. His eyes were fluttering, but his breathing was panicked and sporadic.

"What happened?" I demanded, fear taking over my voice as well.

"I don't know! I think he's waking up!" I took her place my his bedside and just vaguely acknowledged her presence as she wept at the end of the bed, obviously knowing what was coming. No. I had to ignore her to stay composed. I let him grip my hand as he writhed in pain, but held him down lightly to avoid popped stitches.

"David, buddy, I'm here. Echo is here. I'm not going anywhere." I comforted, tears building up in my eyes. I willed April to leave. I didn't want anybody around to see this.

"Echo?" David whimpered, cracking open his eyes to look at me. They were glassy and barely focused, and blood was pooling at the side of his mouth.

"Sh, sh. I'm right here. Are you hurting?" I asked gently. He nodded shakily but didn't break his stare. He was eying my mask.

"I'm home again. We're both home. You can stay with us all you want if you just keep holdin' on!" I implored desperately, not knowing how much time was left. He started going limp. April ran out of the room, giving us time in privacy.

"E-Echo, listen to me." He rasped, spitting out some blood and allowing it to trail down his cheek. I grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.

"Don't feel guilty about me. A-and don't g-go by E-Ech-Echo anym-m-more." His fleeting gaze was serious and firm. I nodded quickly at first, but hesitated at the last part.

"But, I'll always be your Echo!" I protested, and he smiled weakly, a brown curl dropping to frame his pale face.

"N-no. Your old life, your pain and struggles and broken childhood, they all die with me. Y-you are H-Hamato E-einstein Donatello, or h-however you pr-prono-n-nounce those Japanese n-names." He chuckled dryly. I grabbed his hand tighter.

"No! You won't die! I won't let you! You can't!" I cried, not believing a single word of what I was saying, but needing to hear it out loud.

"Just p-promise me that you will fo-forget the n-name Echo." I thought for a moment, but knowing his time was short, nodded determinedly.

"Okay. Okay, I won't go by Echo anymore. I- I am Hamato Donatello." I finally said. He smiled at me, then collapsed into a painful coughing fit.

"Good, n-now you b-better st-stay with me until this ol' body of mine stops w-working. I m-made peace with dying a l-long time ago, buddy." He tried to reassure me. I could only nod my head numbly, too upset and scared to do anything by my own free will.

We sat there for the next twenty minutes, me hysterically blabbering about anything and everything, from childhood memories to dreams to new inventions I was planning, and he listened intently, closing his eyes but smiling serenely as he took in my stories. His coughs became wheezes, his breaths became twitches, and his grip became floppy. He was dying right in front of me, and I was chattering about freaking armored cars.

And then, his hand going up interrupted me. I stopped instantly, eager that I had some type of instructions on something I could do. I felt so helpless.

"Listen, my friend." He began, coughing to clear the phlegm from his throat before continuing more clearly, in a whispered voice, "I have one last thing to say, because I can feel my time is up." I leaned forward intently, listening very quietly. I was barely keeping my emotions in.

"Goodbye, Donatello Einstein Breckham Hamato. Be good, take care of your brothers, and please remember me." He whispered into my ear. I smiled as I remembered his last words to me, suddenly knowing them by heart.

Then he added, "I promise you that someday we will meet again."

I smiled through my tears.

"I know. That's what I'm counting on."

And after one last heartfelt smile, David Breckham closed his eyes and left his earthly body behind, going to his eternal home above the early autumn sunrise.

I swallowed, my tears slowing, and placed a light peck on his cold forehead.

"Goodbye, my friend."

**And that's the end of Old Friend. Epilogue will be up soon, and then be sure to look for a few short stories I will be posting, all taking place in the Old Friend universe.**

**Thank you so much for reading this far, and I promise to try and tie up any loose threads next time!**

**R&amp;R!**


	17. Epilogue

**Alright guys! (sniffle) Here's the epilogue! I would like to give an extra special thank you to everybody who's loyally stayed and followed my story! Thank you so much guys! First fanfic ever, and ya'll have made it so much more fun to write!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.**

**Epilogue**

**Narrator POV**

And so, here ends the story of David and Donatello, friends through everything.

Now, some of you may be asking, 'What's going on with everyone afterwards?'

Well, here's a snippet of a newspaper article from _New York Yakkers_ that may help enlighten you.

**NEW YORK MAN FOUND DEAD IN OWN APARTMENT**

**Simple Robbery Gone Wrong, or Conspiracy Afoot?**

_On the evening of Thursday, September 13, 2014, New York Resident David Breckham was found stabbed to death in the bedroom of his Greenard Lane apartment. A single stab wound was inflicted on his chest, and he was stabbed from behind. Police were called to the scene by a concerned neighbor whose identity has been concealed, claiming to have heard scuffling and crying the night before. The body was lain carefully across the queen bed, dressed in a white and black kimono that reportedly did not belong to the late David Breckham, and an expensive imported sheet was lain over the corpse._

_Investigators are baffled by the nature of the positioning, especially when several items were discovered to be missing, such as an antique watch, a vase, and a photo album; police believe these items were stolen by the intruders. Autopsy revealed the murderer's blade was long and thin, along the lines of a katana or other sword-like blades. Another startling discovery is that someone (most likely the murderers) left incense burning by the bedside, which is theorized to have been to burn the evidence long after the perpetrators had escaped._

"_In all my years of investigating murder scenes," says Michael Burton, Head Detective of the NYPD,"The David Breckham case is by far the most confusing. While the murder was obviously in cold blood and a very messy business, it seems that someone has managed to clean, dress, and prepare the body for burial as if they cared about their... victims."_

_What baffles the police the most is the fact that no fingerprints, blood, or any other evidence at all was found on scene. All that was found was a large reptilian scale, found on the carpet in the bedroom. This was most likely from his workplace at Breckham's Pet Store._

_There are no suspects currently and the Police Chief on scene was unwilling to comment._

_Many people wonder if this was a simple robbery-gone-wrong with a guilty murderer, or if it is some sort of conspiracy targeting Japanese citizens. While the victim is not of Japanese descent, the way the body was cared for seems to resemble Japanese burial rituals, and the katana blade theorized to have killed Breckham would be Japanese._

_Feeding these conspiracy claims further is the recent discovery of another body; the body of local teen Oroku Karai, daughter of Japanese businessman Oroku Saki. 17-year-old Karai had been reported missing two days before her body was found, beaten and bloody, in a ditch alongside the main highway leaving the state._

_Are these crimes connected? Police are highly doubtful, judging by the carelessness shown to Oroku's body and the great care shown to Breckham's. But the city can't help but wonder; are there even more conspiracies out there? Is one of them responsible for serial murder?_

_-Danica Shouston, _New York Yakkers_ Head Journalist_

Now, I know that newspapers are slightly full of crap, but I hope that gives you some idea as to what our favorite half-shelled heros have been up to.

You see, after the Hamato clan learned of young David's inevitable passing, Donatello's three brothers carried the body back to the man's apartment, where they set up the "crime scene". After all, the surface needed to learn of his death so his family and friends could have some closure. Donatello came along, but stayed silent the whole time, taking it upon himself to clean and then dress David in one of Hamato Yoshi's old kimonos and lighting some incense to honor his friend. They gave him a proper honorable funeral, covered him with an imported sheet, and begrudgingly took a plain vase, a watch, and a photo album to make it look like a robbery. The other two items were sold to a pawn shop downtown, but the photo album (the one containing many pictures of David, Becca, Donovan, and Echo Marie, plus a few of David and the baby turtles) remained on Donatello's shelf, where he will keep it and look through it often. He will keep it with him until the day he and his brothers leave the Lair, when he is but 27 years old and supporting his ailing father and leaving the book behind in the fuss to outrun the Shredder.

Thankfully, the young boy will take one photo with him, since it will be in his belt at the time. This photo depicts a smiling little boy snuggling a very rare turtle to his cheek, the terrapin happily returning the gesture. The child's missing front tooth is very noticeable, but just makes him look that much cuter.

Come to think about it, that gap tooth sounds familiar, doesn't it? See, old narrator dude(whose voice probably sounds like Morgan Freeman's, in your mind)'s gotcha thinking now, huh? But, I guess that's one of those book mysteries that you'll never _really _find the answer to.

But what happens to Donatello right after the death? Well, here's what I know:

Right afterwards, Don was never quite the same. He was a bit more introverted, but managed to overcome the more intense emotions over time. He scratched his best friend's name into the wall beside his bed, where he looked at it every night before he went to sleep, just to ensure he never forgot that wonderful man. Not that he ever could.

The rest of his family adapted to his differences very quickly, and he never felt left out or unloved, and the word 'freak' literally never entered his mind ever again. The change was that effective. He may have been depressed from losing his friend, but Mikey helped him through it by being his goofy self, Raph stopped bullying him (almost) altogether, and Leo and Splinter both made double efforts to help him get further ahead in training, just to make him feel like he fit in better. It was a group effort, but they got it done.

And,** wait- **_**what?**_** I have to say **_**that?**_** But it's so corny! No, but they'll expect it already! Urgh, fine, but next time, Vi, you can find yourself a different 'in the reader's head' narrator!**

And they all lived **(basically)** happily ever after. **Obviously.**

The End.

**Urgh, I hate my job**

~But wait, I still have one loose end I need to tie up!

Third Person POV

The cold wind whipped harshly at her rosy cheeks, making her long coat flap at her knees. She sniffled, wiping another tear from her face.

A large, hairy hand was clapped on her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts.

"'e was a good boy, that'n." Said Sam Tackert. The woman smiled sadly and nodded, and after whispering his condolences, Sam joined the last of the retreating funeral crowd, probably going home to watch the game. She was alone now, just her and her brother's grave, staring at each other, locked in place.

David had been buried right next to their mother and father, making this all the more difficult as past demons reared their ugly heads.

"Davey, I miss you so much." She sobbed as more tears streamed down her face. "_I'm _the oldest, so you should have outlived me! I- I just can't believe that someone took you away from me!" She hunched on the ground, inches from the small stone slab marking her baby brother's eternal resting place. Becca reached out a thin hand and carefully placed a small bouquet at the base of the gravestone before standing, giving one last broken sob, and walking towards the lot where her old van was parked.

"Your brother was a good man." Came a voice from behind her, and she jumped, almost screaming but biting it back. A figure now stood right next to David's gravestone, only a few feet away. Becca wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection, wary of whoever it was, but still slowly approaching. Her black dress wasn't doing a very good job of keeping out the biting cold.

"Yes, he was." She replied, biting her lip. The male figure was about six feet tall, covered completely by a trenchcoat and a fedora covering its face. His appearance did nothing to quell her slowly building fear.

"He was a good friend of mine." The voice said, laced heavily with sadness as the figure stood looking at the stone with hunched shoulders. Becca stopped a few inches away from him, digging her nails into the sides of her coat for comfort.

"He was such a great person. Now he'll never get to see his niece." She said as she choked up. She lifted a hand to her mouth and covered it, willing herself to gain some control. She blamed her hormones under normal circumstances, but now she had no need. She was grieving and taking it very hard.

The man turned an appraising eye to her swollen abdomen, nodding quickly then turning back to David's grave. She couldn't hold her curiosity anymore.

"Who are you?" She asked, and the trenchcoat seemed to undulate with his silent chuckles. He still didn't turn to face her, seemingly completely focused on the all the death in front of him. He didn't answer her for a while.

And then, his voice broke the silence as his gloved hands reached up and inside the coat to the back of his neck, jerking one arm and then pulling something out in each hand. In one hand a cloth, in the other, a blade. Becca gasped in fear and backed away quickly, hands up in a defensive position. The man ignored her actions.

"I'm an old friend." Was all he said, bending over, blocking her vision to what he was doing, and then standing moments later. The blade was thrown rather deftly at the ground and the other hand was empty. Becca slowly lowered her hands and turned away, walking as fast as she could and hoping not to draw him to follow. When she was quite a ways away, she turned back to the site where the man had been.

There was no one there.

Startled and worried that she was crazy, Rebecca jogged back over (rather awkwardly, since her belly was forcing her to waddle) and frantically looked around in a full circle, seeing no one at all and no graves big enough to hide a large man. She ran a hand through her black locks, sighing and looking down at her brother's tombstone.

A ratty violet cloth was tacked to the ground by a small blade.

Words were scratched onto the stone.

It had once said, DAVID BRECKHAM, SEPT. 2014, LOVING BROTHER, SON, UNCLE.

Now, two more words were carved- by a blade- right underneath the inscription.

_AND FRIEND._

_Fin._


End file.
